Spider's Advent, Part I: Street Samurai
by Rider Paladin
Summary: Sequel to "Advent of Midnight." After surviving a demonic invasion and a pair of luscious succubae, Peter Parker is ready to return to his normal life. The universe, as usual, has other plans for him, starting with the World Warrior Tournament!
1. No More Secrets

Spider's Advent, Part 1:  
"Street Samurai"

Chapter 1: "No More Secrets"

Disclaimer: Spectacular Spider-Man belongs to Marvel Comics and Marvel Entertainment. Street Fighter belongs to Capcom. Associated characters and related properties are also owned by Marvel and Capcom, and I make no money whatsoever from this story. This is solely for kicks.

Author's note: As those of you who followed me through "Advent of Midnight" and associated polls should know, this continuation will be more of a Marvel/Capcom crossover with the Spectacular Spider-Man universe as the focal point. Familiar characters from both Marvel's and Capcom's franchises will be reinvented for this story, just as Spectacular Spider-Man reinvented Peter Parker and his supporting cast and foes. This first arc will be based on Street Fighter, with Spider-Man teaming up with other street-level heroes from the Marvel Universe and famous faces from Street Fighter canon to take on the sinister combination of M. Bison and . . . _that would be telling._

* * *

"Agent Romanoff, your report," Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. requested, although his tone made it sound more like a command. Then again, the hardboiled soldier just had that effect on people.

Agent Natasha Romanoff, alias the Black Widow, stood before Fury and began to give her report. "After rendezvousing with the requested recruits . . ."

* * *

"_Now that's a face only a mother could love," Hank Pym, garbed in the Giant-Man armor, remarked sardonically as he looked upon a horde of demons._

"_Screw their mothers," Hawkeye grunted, drawing the string back on his bow and releasing a flurry of roughly 30 arrows in the space of one minute. The thirty arrows embedded themselves in thirty demons' heads and the arrowheads detonated, taking the demons' heads with them._

"_Was that necessary?" Giant-Man asked._

"_If you're squeamish about this sort of thing, I understand," Hawkeye responded._

"_Enough," Winter Soldier whispered as he drew his pistol, preparing for the surviving demons' attack. Just before he could fire, Captain Marvel went into a high-speed charge that ended in a brutal uppercut to the foremost demon's chin, sending said demon flying into the sky._

"_Not bad if I do say so myself," Hercules remarked._

"_Leave some for the rest of us, huh?" Janet van Dyne, garbed in the Wasp Model armor, quipped. A quick electrical blast from her arm took down several demons._

"_Wow, these guys are really . . . really . . . weak," Amadeus observed._

"_Thank you, master of the obvious," Hawkeye remarked. "But you're right. For demons, they don't put up much of a fight."_

"_Never mind the fighting," Black Widow admonished. "This is a rescue mission, not a war game."_

"_Right," Winter Soldier acknowledged. "Except we won't be saving anyone if we can't get past these creatures." This he said as he was calmly shooting the demons with his pistol. Luckily for him, the rounds were high-powered explosives._

"_Wished for more of a fight, did you?" a malignant voice asked, and the Avengers were suddenly face to face with a robed demon with a fiery head. "You have one now."_

"_Who the hell are you?" Hawkeye asked. "On second thought, I don't give a damn who you are. You're toast." He shot a barrage of arrows at the mysterious demon, who merely stood there like he didn't care about the arrows flying at him. Of course, he had good reason not to care; the arrows simply exploded against his skin and clothing without penetrating in the slightest. "What the hell?"_

_The robed demon smirked. "You haven't even begun to see hell." Then he punched Hawkeye, so fast that the archer never saw it coming, even with his sensory augmentations._

"_Hawkeye!" Wasp shouted. She turned to the demon and shot him with another electrical blast, which the demon merely absorbed._

"_Do you foolish humans think you can touch me?" he asked._

_That was when Captain Marvel and Hercules both attacked the robed demon, only for the demon to vanish from sight. He reappeared behind them, striking both between their shoulder blades and brutally knocking them both to the ground. The demon tilted his head to evade a high-powered bullet that would have blown his head off . . . for all the good that would have done._

_Reappearing behind Winter Soldier, the demon struck him brutally in the back of the head, disorienting him. Black Widow moved to attack the demon with an electrical blast from her gauntlets, only for the demon to absorb the energy. He then cracked the vertebrae (or whatever he had that filled that same role) in his neck, his eyes burning with malice._

"_I hope that wasn't all you had," he mocked her. "Although you are a brave one. Perhaps I should take you back home with me to be my plaything."_

"_Go to hell," Black Widow spat._

_That was when a car suddenly lunged toward the demon at its absolute maximum speed, which was roughly 160 mph. Throwing himself out through the driver's door before the car made its brutal impact against the demon was none other than Amadeus. Seeing his plan, Winter Soldier shot the car's fuel line, making the car explode into flames as it crashed into the demon._

"_You ok, kid?" Hawkeye asked Amadeus._

"_No big deal," Amadeus replied. "I know how to fall."_

"_Did we get him?" Hawkeye asked._

"_No . . ." the demon growled. He wasn't seriously hurt, but he was seriously angry. "Clever, clever, clever little humans."_

"_Humanity is stronger than you think, demon," Captain Marvel hissed. "I've seen it for myself."_

_At that moment, Giant-Man lived up to his name and grew until he was 60 feet tall. As he was about to try crushing the demon underfoot, that demon merely grew in size to match him. "Uh-oh," Giant-Man muttered._

_The demon smirked. "Did you really think a simple growth spurt would be enough?" He punched Giant-Man in his helmeted face, hard enough to make him stagger. Giant-Man struggled for balance._

"_Shame I never tested this before," he muttered._

"_Hank!" Wasp shouted, zipping up to attack the demon with more electrical blasts. The demon attempted to grab her so he could crush her, but she darted out of his grasp and shot him right in the eye._

"_Damnable wench!" the demon snarled, angrier than before as he unleashed a wave of hellfire that knocked her out of the sky and cut down a skyscraper or two._

"_Jan!" Giant-Man shouted, catching her with his giant hand. "You all right?"_

"_Yeah," Wasp replied._

"_Good," Giant-Man said, and then punched the demon in his face, hard enough to stagger him this time. Unlike Giant-Man, the demon had no concern for the damage he would cause during the fight, although he did struggle to regain his balance so he could fight Giant-Man and show the size-shifting hero his superiority._

"_How about a little teamwork of our own?" Captain Marvel suggested to Hercules._

_Hercules nodded and grabbed Captain Marvel, throwing him into a missile-like attack on the demon. Engulfed in photonic energy, Captain Marvel struck the demon hard enough to knock him down this time. The demon began to shrink back to human size, and Wasp flew out of Giant-Man's hand as Giant-Man began to do the same._

"_I think we nailed him," Hawkeye remarked._

* * *

"What was this guy's name?" Nick Fury asked, interrupting Natasha's report.

"A man named Doctor Strange called him 'the Dread Dormammu,'" Natasha replied.

"The magician?" Fury surmised skeptically.

"Yes," Natasha confirmed. "Only he possesses genuine sorcery . . . and he isn't a half-bad physical combatant."

"And what happened next?" Fury prompted.

"Divine intervention," Natasha answered dryly.

"You mean all those angel sightings people were claiming?" Fury asked. "Those were real angels?"

"Apparently," Natasha confirmed. "Whatever they were, they radiated this aura of . . . purity, not that it was any bit reassuring. To tell you the truth, we were just as wary of them as we were the demons."

"God almighty . . ." Fury murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. Regaining his composure, he looked at Natasha. "How are our men handling the cleanup down in NYC?"

"As well as can be expected," Natasha answered. "We did happen to run into some of the locals."

"Like whom?" Fury questioned.

"Spider-Man . . . and five others with his motif and similar abilities," Natasha replied.

Fury smirked. "I've been keeping an eye on that kid, but I didn't know he had imitators."

"Who do you presume they are?" Natasha inquired.

"Wannabes," Fury answered bluntly. "The real one has potential. Don't know about the others."

"Are you considering recruiting him?" Natasha asked warily.

"Why not?" Fury replied coolly. "Amadeus Cho isn't much older than he is. And if our friends from Interpol are right about what's brewing, we might very well need his help."

* * *

Speaking of Spider-Man, the web-slinger was on his way to another day of school. It had been such a screwy few months – succubae, vampires, demon hunters, vampire hunters, and even a warped clone of him that had tried to take his head off . . . There had been some good that had come of it, though; he and Gwen were together, and Gwen even knew the man behind the mask. Granted, so did Liz, Mary Jane, Ben, and Harry, but Spider-Man trusted them.

What did concern him, though, were his five new emulators. One in red-and-black, though mostly red, one in green-and-black, one in black-and-red, and two girls who had been colloquially referred to as "Spider-Girls" or "Spider-Women" depending on the media outlet in question. Good old Jonah, being who he was, had simply declared that they were all part of the gang that Spider-Man was allegedly recruiting for the sake of taking over the city. The only sightings of them so far had been during the demonic invasion some weeks back, but Spider-Man was on the lookout for them in case they came out again. If they did, he'd teach them a thing or two about violating copyright laws.

Making it to school, Spidey ducked somewhere he could change back into regular Peter Parker. Upon finishing the change, though, he found Gwen leaning on the wall like she'd been waiting for him. "Gwen!" he exclaimed in surprise. Calming down enough to whisper rather loudly, "You're aware I have a secret identity to protect, right?"

"It's ok," Gwen whispered. "I'm not gonna tell anyone. I just thought I'd hang out and wait for my boyfriend to show up."

"And who is this lucky fellow?" Peter teased.

Gwen chuckled. "Who do you think?" She gave him a kiss on the lips, and this time, he wasn't frozen from shock. It felt nice . . . really nice. He guessed he was finally getting used to beautiful girls kissing him, and it emboldened him just enough for him to kiss back tentatively. Gwen pulled back with a smile on her face.

"Second time's the charm, huh?" she quipped.

"Yeah," Peter replied bashfully.

They went inside Midtown Manhattan Magnet High School, arm in arm like the hopelessly-in-love new couple that they were. "Hey, Tiger," Mary Jane greeted him, leaning against her locker with an impish smirk on her face. "Hey, Gwen. How's couplehood treating you?"

"So far, great," Peter replied.

"I guess that's the high of a new relationship," Mary Jane remarked.

"What about you?" Gwen asked. "How are you and Scott?"

"Scott?" Peter echoed. "Who's Scott?"

"Scott Summers," Mary Jane replied. "He's a transfer from a special boarding school for 'the gifted.'"

"School for the gifted?" Peter repeated. "Would I have heard of it?"

"No," Mary Jane replied. "It's pretty exclusive, from what I hear."

"So what's he doing here?" Gwen wondered.

"Just wanted to meet some new people," a polite voice remarked. "I think I'm doing all right with that."

Gwen and Peter turned to see a tall, lithe brown-haired teenager with red-tinted sunglasses and dressed in a polo shirt and cargo pants. Said teenager offered his hand to shake. "Hi. I'm Scott."

"Peter Parker," Peter replied as he shook hands with Scott.

"I'm Gwen."

"I hear you and Mary Jane are pretty close," Scott remarked.

"Yeah," Gwen admitted.

"Hey, Scott . . ." Mark Allan ran up to greet the other teenager. "I never got the chance to say thanks, for me and my sister and all."

"It's cool," Scott replied. "I was just doing the right thing. You guys would have done the same for me."

"That reminds me," Mark said as he looked at Peter. "Where were you when all that was going down?"

"Trying to find shelter," Peter lied. "And mostly trying to stay out of the way while all those guys were fighting those monsters out there." He didn't mention that he was one of the ones fighting monsters, albeit in his Spider-Man alter ego, and while in real danger of becoming one of those monsters himself.

"Sure," Mark assented, "but you scared the crap out of Liz. She's real sweet on you for some reason."

"Uh, yeah?" Peter uttered stupidly. _No wonder she didn't look so happy when she saw me and Gwen together. . . ._

"Yeah," Mark replied.

"No need to give him such a hard time," a familiar tanned blond boy remarked as he came up to them. "It's not like he's as in tune to the female mind as you and I."

"Reilly," Mark acknowledged.

"Yeah, that's me, but I prefer Ben," the boy replied.

"Hey, Ben," Peter greeted.

"So what were you up to, shutterbug?" Ben asked.

"The usual," Peter replied. "Just trying to stay alive while Jameson made me cover all that mayhem going on out there."

Ben chuckled. "I was just trying to stay alive, but whatever. You hear about the tournament?"

"What tournament?" Peter asked.

"I'm not surprised _you_ don't know, Puny Parker," Flash Thompson sneered, but there were traces of affection in his mockery. "It's only the biggest fighting tournament in the world! It's kinda like MMA, only they do it outdoors and in big cities like this one, and anybody who thinks they got the skills can join in!"

"Sounds like fun . . ." Peter muttered cautiously.

"According to what I heard from my dad, the police are going to cordon off specific areas of the city so that the tournament can go on without endangering innocent people," Gwen commented.

"Better having to figure out another route than ending up in the hospital or worse," Mary Jane remarked. "I've heard some scary stories about these tournaments."

"Like what?" Peter inquired.

"Like the fighters, some of them at least, have actual superpowers," MJ replied. "Throwing around fireballs, kicks like hurricanes, punches that make sonic booms, and this one guy is supposed to even have a technique that drags you to hell."

"Whoa . . ." Peter uttered. "That sounds . . . not pleasant."

"So you wanna go in?" Ben asked Flash pointedly.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter," Flash replied.

"Well, at least you know your strengths," Ben drawled sarcastically.

Even Sally snickered a bit, but then the girl was addicted to insulting and demeaning other people, so Ben figured he'd impressed her slightly in that department. Then again, that wasn't exactly such a worthy accomplishment, but he digressed. Beside him, Mark coolly rolled his eyes, and Flash huffed in irritation that Peter's cousin had gotten the better of him.

"Well, what about you, tough guy?" Flash taunted. "You gonna go in?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Ben replied. "Either way, you're not gonna see my face."

"Hey, what do you think of all those Spider-Man imitators running around out there?" Mark asked.

"They're nothing but posers," Flash replied haughtily. "This city only needs one Spider-Man – the _real_ one!"

"That's nice to hear," Mary Jane commented, faking disinterest. Truth be told, she was quite curious herself about the other Spiders. If the reports were accurate, they'd been seen fighting with and against various monsters. What troubled her, though, was that she was sure what had happened to Peter to make him Spider-Man had been a onetime occurrence. If somebody had managed to replicate it . . . what would that person have in mind? Replacing Spider-Man? Killing Spider-Man?

"They made five of them because they knew it'd take five to match the real thing!" Flash continued his boast on behalf of the web-slinger. Oh, if only he knew that the aforementioned web-slinger – and one of the so-called "posers" – was right next to him.

"Let's just go to class, ok?" Gwen suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Peter agreed.

* * *

Above the hustle and bustle of the world's big cities, a private jet sliced through the skies. Two extremely imposing men were sitting inside the jet's cabin, facing each other while sipping wine. One of them was a large, bald man in a tailored white suit that seemed barely capable of restraining his mass, his blue eyes glittering with ruthless intelligence.

The other appeared much more muscular, and was dressed in a red military suit and cap that reminded the first man of the old Nazi uniforms. Not to mention his eyes virtually glowed with utterly inhuman malice that almost frightened the man in the white suit. He would not admit it, though, for to do so would be to acknowledge weakness – and Wilson Fisk was anything but weak.

"Dictator Bison," Fisk addressed the other man. "It appears you and I want the same things, or at least our goals run concurrent. We will have a most profitable alliance."

"I assure you, Wilson Fisk, I am no stranger to the powers possessed by New York City's miscreants," Dictator M. Bison replied. "However, your city's talent will be a welcome addition to my own forces . . . and in return, I will help you depose the man who has usurped your place as the Big Man of Crime."

"Then L. Thompson Lincoln will be a dead man," Fisk sneered. "But we will need a distraction. This World Warrior Tournament will only do so much, and there are those in New York City who would put a stop to us both were they focused on us."

"You have prisons full of very dangerous men," Bison replied. "Men that could cause a great deal of damage were they freed . . ."

"A prison break, you say?" Fisk deduced, smirking. "I like how you think. And I even have the perfect someone in mind for it."

"Ah, do tell," Bison leered.

"I think I will play this close to the chest for now," Fisk responded coolly.

* * *

Hours later, the Vault, a prison built and modified specifically for the super-powered menaces that seemed to be multiplying in New York City, exploded into chaos – literally _and_ metaphorically. It just happened to be that it occurred while Spider-Man was on patrol, and he could see the smoke billowing quite clearly from the distance he was at.

"That's not good . . ." the web-slinger muttered, changing his direction so that he was headed straight for the Vault.

* * *

In the private lab that Miles Warren had managed to eke out for himself through some judicious veiled threats to Doctor Curt Connors' career, given the scaly skeletons in that man's closet, the sinister doctor calmly stared at the news bulletin playing before him. That was when Benjamin Reilly, Harold Osborn, Brian Kornfeld, Anya Corazon, and Martha Franklin entered the lab, dressed in their costumes sans masks.

"Your turn now," he spoke to the assembled Web Corps without pausing to look in their direction, useful for keeping them from seeing the smirk on his face. "Time to show this city what you're made of."

"This is a little big, don't you think?" Harry, codenamed Tarantula, uttered nervously.

Brian, codenamed Spider-X, glared at Harry. "Coward," he sneered.

"Hey, back off," Ben, codenamed Scarlet Spider, defended Harry. "We haven't had anything this big since that incident with the demons crawling out of the woodwork. You gotta admit it's a little daunting."

"You scared, too?" Brian sneered.

"Hey, back off!" Anya, codenamed Arana, repeated Ben's words, but more forcefully. "You'd have to be crazy not to be a little scared! Doesn't mean we aren't going!"

"It's gonna be ok, you guys," Mattie, codenamed Spider-Woman, cut in. "We're the good guys, remember? Just like Spider-Man! We'll make it through!"

"Some people don't think we're the good guys," Ben remarked dryly.

"Screw Jameson," Brian spat. "He's just a know-nothing loudmouth."

"He's still my uncle," Mattie said.

"Never mind that now," Warren interrupted, still not looking at the Web Corps. "You have a prison break to stop."

"He's right," Ben admitted, donning his mask. "Let's go."

* * *

By the time Spider-Man reached the Vault, it was chaos incarnate, with the super-powered inmates attempting to scatter to the winds. Some of them he recognized from his previous encounters with them, some he only knew through the news due to never encountering them personally, and some he didn't recognize at all. Whoever these guys were to him, they were dangerous and they were _not_ going to be allowed to roam free again.

The web-slinger immediately dived into the midst of the fleeing inmates and shooting webs at them to trap them. "And where do you think you're going so soon?" he taunted.

"Spider-Man!" one of them shouted.

"Oh, hey . . . Mysterio, was it?" Spider-Man asked. "You better not be a robot this time, jerk, or you're really gonna get it!"

"So what if I am?" Mysterio taunted.

"You know what? Screw you," Spider-Man retorted. "I don't have time for this." He bound up Mysterio with so much webbing that it'd be impossible for him to escape until the webs dissolved. His spider-sense blared just in time for him to dodge a rush from Rhino, who had the good grace not to be able to stop before his horn embedded itself into a wall. Spider-Man webbed him to the wall, too – just in time for a sandstorm to engulf him, the sand forming blades that cut into the web-slinger.

By the time it was over, Spider-Man was bleeding from what felt like a thousand small cuts all over his body. "Changed your costume again, huh, Web-head?" Sandman taunted as he reformed into a human shape.

"Shame you didn't," Spider-Man retorted. "Really, the pinstripes don't look good on you."

Sandman formed his arm into a battering ram and punched Spider-Man with it, knocking him into and through a wall. Spider-Man just jumped through the hole he'd made to attack Sandman again with impact webbing. The web bullets peppered Sandman's form, pushing him back but not staggering him completely. As Spider-Man kept up the assault, his spider-sense screamed at him again, compelling him to jump backward into the air . . . just in time to avoid a Vulture dive-bomb.

"Hey, Vulch!" Spider-Man greeted cheerfully. "How the hell are ya? The food been good to you? Been getting plenty of sleep?"

The Vulture swung around to attack Spider-Man again. This time, Spider-Man webbed his mechanical wings and used them to pull the Vulture down while vaulting up into a kick to the Vulture's armored chest. The clashing kinetic forces from the Vulture's descent and Spider-Man's kick knocked the geriatric super-villain for a loop and he crashed into a heap. By this point, though, Sandman and Rhino had regrouped . . . and were attacking Spider-Man as a team.

_Damn,_ Spider-Man thought. _Rhino might not be that maneuverable, but get him charging . . . And even if I didn't have to deal with him, Sandman's really creative with his powers for being the poster boy for stupid crooks everywhere._

In a desperate move, Spider-Man jumped into the air to avoid Rhino's charge and contorted in midair to snatch Rhino with his webbing, then . . . used the webbing as leverage to _throw Rhino at Sandman._ The brutal collision resulted in Sandman losing the cohesion that allowed him to maintain human form and Rhino being knocked for a loop. Of course, that move hadn't exactly done Spider-Man any favors; the strain of his desperate attack had torn several muscles in his arms.

_That . . . might not have been such a good move,_ the web-slinger thought, his arms aching quite unpleasantly. His spider-sense went off again, just in time for him to get clipped by Vulture. "Son of a . . ."

"Nice move, boy," Vulture mocked. "But all you did was leave yourself open for the Vulture!"

"Referring to yourself in the third person isn't exactly a sign of a healthy mind," Spider-Man taunted.

"Spare me," Vulture sneered. "You know as well as I do that you just did yourself in with that move."

_He's right,_ Spider-Man admitted reluctantly. _Vulture might be overestimating how screwed-up I am, but that move hurt more than I was thinking. Was I even thinking?_

"Any last words, wall-crawler?" Vulture taunted.

"Yeah . . ." Spider-Man replied. "Look out behind you."

"Like I'm gonna fall for –" the Vulture's jeering was cut off by a cord wrapping around his throat and yanking him back into a punch from a red-gloved fist. As the Vulture collapsed to the ground, unconscious, Spider-Man looked up at his savior.

"Are you a Satanist or something?"

The man in question was garbed in blood-red motorcycle leathers, flexible enough to allow him freedom of movement but with light armor underneath for impact dampening. His face was concealed by a red cowl made of the same armored leather with a pair of small hornlike protrusions up front that made him resemble the classical depiction of the Devil. Distinguishing his outfit was a holster for a baton of some kind and a pair of interlocked D's on his chest.

"No, I'm Daredevil," the leather-clad man replied stoically. "By the way, you might wanna look out."

The next thing Spider-Man knew, he was dodging a tidal wave of sand created by none other than the Sandman. At that same moment, his spider-sense went off again and he had to fire a web to swing out of the way of a massive electrical blast that would have instantly fried him. As it was, Sandman ended up on the receiving end and was fused into glass for his trouble, glass that Daredevil callously shattered.

"What the hell!" Spider-Man yelled. "Did you just kill him!"

Daredevil just stared at Spider-Man as though Spider-Man was being an idiot. As for the one who'd fired that electrical blast, Electro just smirked nastily. "Fine by me. I never liked that guy, anyway."

"Dillon!" Spider-Man yelled.

"_It's ELECTRO!_" Electro screamed, creating a lightning storm directed solely at ending Spider-Man's life.

"Lucky for me, I came prepared," Spider-Man muttered, webbing Electro, who would have burned it off except for the fact that he couldn't. "See that? I mixed some insulating polymers into my web formula, just in case I ever ran into you again . . . which I should have figured was a lot likelier than I was thinking." He paused. "Ok, that's Mysterio, Sandman, Rhino, Vulture, and Electro. Hmm, anybody else I know?" Then he turned to Daredevil. "As for you, I ought to let you know that I am totally not ok with lethal force!"

Daredevil again just stared at Spider-Man as though the wall-crawler was an idiot. This time, though, he actually said something. "He's made of sand. He'll eventually reconfigure himself."

"Oh," Spider-Man uttered in embarrassment. "I . . . knew that."

Daredevil snorted. "Let's make sure the others don't get too far from here, all right?"

"Yeah," Spider-Man agreed dumbly.

* * *

By the time Spider-Man and Daredevil had made it out of the Vault, they found the Web Corps, along with another team of superheroes Spider-Man didn't exactly recognize, handling things. The funny thing about the Web Corps, now that he was seeing them in action for himself, was how much they moved and fought like him. There were subtle differences, though, that he chalked up to their individual personalities.

The black-clad one with the red web patterns growing out of his equally red spider symbol fought more aggressively and viciously than Spider-Man normally tended towards. Helping in the aggression were the talons on his fingertips that he used as slashing weapons – in addition to their presumed use of wall-crawling.

The green-and-black-clad one, whose costume design was similar to Spider-Man's, was a lot more cautious in how he fought. The one in red with the huge black spider symbol on his chest seemed even more cheerful about it than Spider-Man often portrayed himself, casually mocking his foes as he acrobatically evaded their attacks. The Spider-Girls (or was it Spider-Women?) were particularly given to bending and flipping and contorting like actual gymnasts, with the one in black-and-white carrying it off too well to be entirely new to this – new to crime-fighting, yes, but not exactly new to gymnastic stunts.

It faintly occurred to Spider-Man that he should not be eyeing someone that, for all he knew, could have been another clone like that symbiote-fused maniac he'd had to deal with. Contrary to popular assumption, having a female doppelganger of oneself was not an occasion to fantasize about sexy time, it was an occasion to freak out over how goddamn creepy it was. He sincerely hoped she wasn't a clone. He'd had enough of clones.

By the time it was over . . . it was over. Spider-Man clapped, slowly, almost sarcastically. "So I meet my adoring fans," he quipped with a smile.

"You . . ." the black-and-red Spider-Man snarled.

"Yeah, that's me," Spider-Man confirmed. "Now who are you?"

"A better Spider-Man than you," the black-and-red Spider-Man shot back angrily.

"Hey, X, cool down," the red-clad Spider-Man advised. "I apologize for him, he's a bit on edge . . . all the time."

Spider-Man recognized that voice. After all, he used his mask and some clever vocal work to disguise his own voice, so he was keen to the same trick being pulled on him by someone he knew. He'd have to get this red Spider-Man alone, for him to confirm his suspicions. In the meantime, he quipped, "Like this guy?" He jerked his thumb at Daredevil to make his example.

Daredevil scowled. "Amateurs."

"But with potential," a beautiful redhead cut in with a tinge of Russian in her voice. She wore skintight black leather with metal cuffs around her wrists and a belt with a black widow-style red hourglass emblazoned on the buckle slung low on her hips. She turned to Daredevil with a look that said she was familiar with him, and the devil-styled vigilante returned that look with the same familiarity. To her right, the blond archer clad in black and purple with the H-strap over his torso stared irritably at them, while the youngish-looking brunet man in soldier's armor stared stoically ahead.

"Who are you guys?" the black-and-white-clad Spider-Girl (or was it Spider-Woman?) asked fiercely.

"The Avengers," the redhead answered.

"You sound like you're with the government," Spider-Man remarked. "If you are, can I sue these guys for blatantly copying me?"

"Did you put a patent on 'Spider-Man'?" the archer asked with a sardonic grin.

"Oh, crap . . ." Spider-Man murmured.

"Then you can't sue," the archer explained simply. "Besides, there's no law against dressing up like a kid who thinks he's in a comic book."

Spider-Man gritted his teeth, while the Spider-Girl (or Woman) whose costume was almost exactly identical to his save for bluish-silver in place of red and lacking webs pointed her finger angrily at the archer. "Hey! Don't insult Spidey! If it wasn't for him, this city would be a cesspool by now!"

"Fangirls . . ." the archer muttered, while the leather-clad redhead had a good chuckle at his expense.

"There's no reason to antagonize them, Hawkeye," she said. At that moment, an imposing man in white-and-green armor that vaguely reminded Spider-Man of an Ancient Greek warrior made himself known.

"Some of them slipped past us."

The redhead cursed under her breath in Russian. Regaining her composure, she turned to the rest of her Avengers, two of whom were a couple wearing armors modeled after insects. The man's armor, colored red and blue, made him resemble an ant, while the woman's armor, colored black and gold, made her resemble a wasp – and she had the waist for it, too.

The other one was a tall, muscular, and jovial-looking man in what seemed to be a tan leather vest and brown pants made of lizard hide. "Interesting bunch here," he remarked cheerfully. "Shame the girls are too young."

"Too young for what?" the Spider-Woman (or Girl) in blue-tinged silver and navy blue asked.

"What do you think?" the Spider-Woman (or Girl) in black and white responded. "Freaking perv."

"Don't worry, fair maidens!" the brown-clad man responded airily. "I have no intention of sullying your virtue this soon in your tender lives."

Spider-Man just stared at him. "Uh, who are you?"

"Hercules!"

"You're kidding."

"No, I am not, noble youth! I am most assuredly Hercules, the Prince of Power!"

"Yeah, fine, let's roll with that."

"You do not believe me?" Hercules asked.

"Enough," the redhead in black leather interrupted, sounding irritated. "Spider-Man, Daredevil, the two of you are to come with us. The rest of you can go home."

"You mean . . . we don't . . ." the green-and-black Spider-Man uttered disappointedly.

"Not like we need you," the black-and-red Spider-Man snarled angrily. "You government pricks never did jack to protect the people of this city!"

The archer looked like he wanted to make an issue of it, but the soldier-styled man held him back. "It's not worth it, Hawkeye."

Hawkeye, as he was identified, deflated slightly but with a hard glare aimed at the black-and-red Spider-Man beneath his goggle-eyed shades. "Fine."

Spider-Man turned to his emulators. "Uh . . . you guys hold down the fort here. I'll be back!" His awkward attempt to encourage them in the face of the leather-clad woman's dismissal sounded lame even to his own ears.

"Thanks," the red Spider-Man replied. "Come on, you guys. We got a city to look after. Let the big kids have their fun."

With that said, Web Corps leaped and swung away from the Vault, leaving Spider-Man and Daredevil alone with the Avengers. "What do you want with us?" Daredevil asked.

"Come with us, and Colonel Fury will explain everything," the woman replied.

"Ok . . ." Spider-Man uttered, not really convinced but willing to roll with it until he saw or heard something that fully persuaded him. _This better not be a trap . . . I'm sick of traps . . ._

* * *

End Notes: And thus, I have completed the beginning chapter of Spider's Advent! If you're wondering why Spider-Man doesn't sound so convinced of Hercules' divinity . . . wouldn't _you_ think somebody was nuts if they started calling themselves by the name of a literal god or demigod? Granted, Spider-Man has had encounters with demons and vampires as of the original story, but not actual gods or even angels just yet.

For the record, the Web Corps will play a role in the continuity of this story. They'll probably get their numbers trimmed a bit at some point, but they'll still be important throughout. Ben Reilly and Harry Osborn, now the Scarlet Spider and Tarantula, know that Peter's Spider-Man as of Venom and Demitri Maximoff's hostage-taking at the midpoint of the original story, and Peter seems to recognize Ben, but will he recognize Harry?

Poor Harry, though; guy always feels like he's playing second best to Peter, even when they're both superheroes. Is that gonna put another wrench in their relationship, and if so, will it be exploited by someone like Miles Warren, who knows Peter's dual identity thanks to cloning him? What of Warren's agenda, and how does it coincide with that of Norman Osborn . . . or is he playing at a scheme of his own?

Most pertinent to this arc's plot, the deposed Kingpin of Crime has teamed up with the Overlord of Shadaloo to re-conquer New York's criminal underworld! What sort of resistance will Tombstone mount against this deadly alliance, and what does their plot have to do with the World Warrior Tournament and the newly freed Vault prisoners? For the answers to all those questions, you'll just have to keep on reading! Thanks, and be sure to review!


	2. Like a Hurricane

Spider's Advent, Part 1:

"Street Samurai"

Chapter 2: "Like a Hurricane"

Disclaimer: Spectacular Spider-Man and related characters and properties belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. Street Fighter and related characters and properties belong to Capcom. I make no money from the usage of characters and properties from either setting in this story; this is solely for my personal amusement and hopefully that of my readers.

Author's note: Well, we're off to an excellent start, aren't we? Spider-Man's met the mysterious Daredevil and interceded in a prison break, and now he and DD are going to hang out with the Avengers! Just what do the Avengers need Spider-Man and Daredevil for in the first place, and does it have anything to do with the masterminds of that prison break? Speaking of said masterminds, Tombstone will not take their attempt to usurp him quietly, but who will he join forces with to ensure he can hold on to his prized territory? And who else will show up to make Spider-Man's life more interesting? For the answers to those questions and others, keep reading!

* * *

Spider-Man and Daredevil sat in the hypersonic fighter jet called a Quinjet by the Avengers. Piloting the aerial vessel was the archer, whom Spider-Man had learned called himself Hawkeye. The leather-clad redheaded woman, Black Widow, sat in the copilot's chair next to Hawkeye, while Winter Soldier and Amadeus Cho had taken the navigators' seats. The other Avengers rested in the back of the jet with Spider-Man and Daredevil, either keeping them company or keeping them from trying anything.

"So, Gi_ant_-Man, would Spidey be any relation of yours?" Hawkeye quipped.

"Spiders are arachnids, Clint," Giant-Man replied tolerantly.

"Thank you!" Spider-Man exclaimed. "Somebody gets it!"

"Of course I get it," Giant-Man chided. "I've been studying insects for years, and I got the idea that . . . if we could coordinate the small size of insects with the precision of human intelligence . . . we could probably do a lot of good."

"Kind of like how real spider webbing has been said to be potentially stronger than steel," Spider-Man remarked. "If we could make it last longer than an hour at best . . ."

"That works, too," Giant-Man agreed. "We could make structures that would be extremely resistant to physical damage, especially against something like a –"

"A bomb? A rocket missile? Rhino's punch?"

"Like those things, yes."

"Wow . . ." Spider-Man uttered. "That could be useful. You'd at least keep all the crazy super-villains from causing so much collateral damage."

"Yeah," Giant-Man agreed. "By the way, we tried to analyze your webbing once. Figured whatever compound you used might be useful for something."

"It wasn't just me . . ." Spider-Man admitted.

"Well, Hank, I'm happy for you," Wasp remarked. "At least you've got someone to share that big brain of yours with now."

"I'd rather be sharing it with you," Giant-Man jibed lightly.

"You guys together or something?" Spider-Man asked. "Because I'm getting 'new couple in love' vibes."

"Are _you_ seeing someone?" Wasp asked Spider-Man teasingly. "Is there a Spider-_Woman_ in your life?"

"Uh, kinda, but we're not dating," Spider-Man replied sheepishly. "There're two of them, actually – and didn't you see them, too?"

"Yeah . . ." Wasp trailed off in a tone that suggested she was smirking behind her helmet. "One of them seemed to have a pretty big crush on you."

"Uh, yeah . . ." Spider-Man trailed off, embarrassment preventing him from saying much else.

"Jan, don't tease him like that," Giant-Man admonished her.

"But he's so much fun!" Wasp pouted.

"Surely a young man of your stature should have bevies of young beauties asking you to take their hand?" Hercules remarked.

"Not that kind of guy, really," Spider-Man answered.

"Young men, then?" Hercules offered jovially.

"Who do you take me for?" Spider-Man asked, startled.

"Forgive me . . . it's merely that my era didn't have such prohibitions," Hercules replied.

"Ancient Greece?" Spider-Man wondered. "Like with the Spartans and everything?"

"Ah, yes," Hercules remarked. "The Spartans were great warriors, although I personally think they took it a little too seriously."

"Y-yeah . . . I'm still having a hard time buying that you're some kind of mythical demigod," Spider-Man rejoined.

"Rest assured, brave web-slinger, I am no myth," Hercules replied. "My story may have been consigned to mere legend in the eyes of your modern people, but I am as real now as I was then."

"Sure," Spider-Man answered noncommittally. He turned to get a good look at Daredevil. "What's up, doc? You haven't said a word since we got on this ride."

"Didn't see a reason to," Daredevil replied.

"Aw, can't you have a little fun?" Wasp asked.

"No," Daredevil answered tersely.

"What about you?" Spider-Man asked, turning to Winter Soldier. In the process, he saw a tattoo on the slightly older man's bared bicep. It was made up of four concentric circles patterned after the stripes of the American flag, with the last circle colored a very dark blue with a star in the center. "Wait a second . . . is that . . . ?"

"Oh, you like it?" Winter Soldier murmured stoically.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Spider-Man remarked. "Big Captain America fan?"

"Used to work with him," Winter Soldier admitted. "Best man I ever knew."

"Wait a second! That was over 60 years ago!" Spider-Man exclaimed. "You can't be . . ."

"You'd be amazed what cryogenic suspension does for you." Before he could say anymore, the Black Widow interrupted him.

"We're here."

Spider-Man took a look outside and gasped in shock. "What is that?"

"The S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier," Hawkeye replied.

"How high up are we?" Spider-Man asked.

"High enough that if you tried to jump out, you'd reach terminal velocity before you could spin one of those webs to save yourself," Hawkeye replied. "Even if you were able to catch yourself with it, the torque on your arms would still get them ripped out of their sockets and you'd be messed up even worse. Be a senseless waste of human life if something like that happened to you, kid."

"Gee, thanks for caring," Spider-Man quipped.

* * *

Hawkeye brought the Quinjet down on the mobile landing strip that took up a large percentage of the Helicarrier, which was distinguished by the symbol of a bird with outstretched wings that reminded Spider-Man of the bald eagle that was America's signature animal. Once securely landed, the Avengers got out of the Quinjet, with Spider-Man and Daredevil following.

"High above the sky . . . seeing the clouds up close . . . it's kind of a nice setup if you're not afraid of heights," Spider-Man remarked.

"I'm not," Daredevil grunted. "Are you?"

"I'm part spider," Spider-Man replied. "We thrive on heights."

"Come on," a tall blonde ordered as she came up to the assembled superheroes. She wore a skintight dark blue suit with silver gloves and boots, as well as a matching gun holster strapped across her not-inconsiderable chest. On her left shoulder, a red version of the eagle seen on the Helicarrier was centered in a gold badge. "Director Fury is waiting for you."

"Lead the way, Danvers," Hawkeye answered.

Agent Carol Danvers turned on her heel and began to go back the way she came, her earlier tone indicating that the assemblage of superheroes ought to follow, and follow they did. _Why do I get the feeling she's a total ice queen?_ Spider-Man wondered as he followed Agent Danvers.

"Relax, kid," Hawkeye whispered as he nudged Spider-Man. "She ain't all that bad. Just let her get to know you a bit, work that wit of yours, and she'll be putty in your hands in no time."

"I heard that, Agent Barton," Danvers grunted.

Hawkeye chuckled amusedly, while Spider-Man could have sworn he saw Daredevil rolling his eyes behind his cowl. Black Widow sighed. "Clint . . . Clint . . . Clint . . . always the joker."

"Yeah, say my name," Hawkeye rejoined flirtatiously. "It rolls off your tongue quite nicely."

"Are you guys always like this?" Spider-Man asked.

"Yeah, it's still something I'm getting used to myself," Giant-Man admitted.

"Glad it's not just me," Spider-Man murmured.

After several minutes of walking and taking surprisingly spacious elevators, Danvers had led the Avengers, Spider-Man, and Daredevil to the offices of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury. Even seated, Fury was an imposing man, with dark hair gone gray at the temples and a patch over his left eye that added character to an already ruggedly handsome face. A second look revealed that he was wearing an outfit similar to Danvers, but with the main body colored black and the S.H.I.E.L.D. insignia colored black within a silver badge.

"Director Fury, the Avengers are here with your persons of interest," Danvers greeted him.

"Thanks, Agent Danvers," Fury replied. "Take everyone out of this office except for Agents Barton, Romanoff, and Barnes – and Spider-Man and Daredevil. They'll be briefed after I'm done with these guys."

"Right, sir," Danvers assented and turned to leave, gesturing at Giant-Man, Wasp, Hercules, Captain Marvel, and Amadeus Cho to follow her. Once they were out, Nick Fury spared the closed door a glance before turning his attention back on the group of five left before him.

"Here's the deal, you five . . . that prison break you interfered in? It was part of a bigger plan, if what my intel from the inside is right."

"Whose bigger plan?" Hawkeye asked.

"A man called M. Bison," Nick Fury answered. "Leader of a vast criminal organization called Shadaloo, infamous for hiring ruthless, vicious, and all-around murderous bastards from all around the globe as his enforcers. He recruits through an international informal fighting ring called the World Warrior Tournament, which tends to attract all kinds of fighters, many of whom are said to have supernatural powers as the result of their martial arts training."

"You mean . . . these guys got their superpowers from kung fu?" Spider-Man asked. "And I thought that only happened in movies."

"Well, if you can get your powers from a genetically modified spider, kid . . ."

Spider-Man blanched in surprise behind his mask. "How do you know about that?"

"It's my business to know these things," Fury answered coolly. "But that's not the problem right now. The problem is that Bison has a partner here in America, a crime boss whose reputation spreads far and wide, a boss that was deposed sometime ago by an upstart hit man by the nickname 'Tombstone.' I'm sure you're familiar with him."

"Yeah," Spider-Man confirmed grimly.

"That boss Tombstone deposed, I know him," Daredevil growled. "Wilson Fisk."

"The philanthropist?" Spider-Man wondered.

"That was his public face," Daredevil corrected. "He was the Big Man of Crime in New York's underworld before Tombstone snatched the position from him. After that, Fisk went on the run, trying to rebuild his base and stay ahead of Interpol."

"And speaking of Interpol, I've called in some outside help for this case," Fury cut in. "People who know full well what Bison is and what he and his menagerie of psychos can do."

"So when do we get to meet them?" Hawkeye asked.

"When the mission starts," Fury replied.

"What about the breakout?" Spider-Man inquired. "What does this Bison character have to gain from busting out a bunch of . . . ? Crap. He's using it as a distraction. Keep the local law enforcement busy while he and Fisk carry out whatever scheme they've planned out under their noses."

"Smarter than you look," Fury remarked snidely.

"What's wrong with how I look?" Spider-Man asked petulantly.

"Well, at least you don't look like a gimp," Hawkeye remarked, aiming a sidelong glance at Daredevil, who refused to respond.

"Somebody's jealous . . ." Spider-Man commented with a singsong tone.

"Enough," Fury growled. "What Spider-Man said is more or less accurate, and that's the reason the five of you have been brought together for this operation. Your mission will be to infiltrate the World Warrior Tournament as participants, fight your way through Bison's and Fisk's goons, and use them to get to the bottom of what those sorry bastards are really planning."

"Why us?" Spider-Man asked.

"For a kid not even out of high school yet, you've got the most experience dealing with the current Big Man of Crime, and it's likely he'll enter the game at some point to fight this threat to his empire," Fury explained. "Daredevil's spent years fighting the old Big Man of Crime, and he's more familiar with New York's underworld and its vagaries than you are. Agents Barton, Romanoff, and Barnes are the most familiar of my team with the kind of setting you'll be dropped into."

"Ok . . ." Spider-Man uttered. "Good enough for me."

"Good," Fury answered. He stood up from his chair, which made him even more imposing than he was to start with, overwhelming Spider-Man with how physically small he felt compared to the older man despite that he had superpowers and Fury presumably did not. He pulled something out of his desk and tossed it at Spider-Man, who caught it with his phenomenal reflexes. "That's a Com-Card. It'll give off a signal when it's time for you to be called in for the job."

Spider-Man examined the glossy white rectangular object in his hand. "Wow. Can I use it like a credit card?"

"No," Fury replied.

"You suck," Spider-Man pouted jokingly.

Daredevil just stared stoically at his Com-Card before slipping it into a hidden pocket of his costume. Taking his cue from the older and more experienced vigilante, Spider-Man slipped his own Com-Card inside one of the pockets of his utility belt underneath his costume. The web-slinger then looked around at the other costumed heroes in the room with him before turning back to Fury.

"So when will it be time?" Spider-Man asked.

Fury just smirked cryptically. "You'll know."

* * *

The next morning, Spider-Man was web-slinging to school, thinking about last night's revelations. Wilson Fisk was the previous Big Man of Crime, only deposed by a combination of Tombstone's scheming and Daredevil's relentless assaults on his empire. From how tense the red-clad vigilante had looked, Spider-Man suspected that things were a lot more personal between Daredevil and the Kingpin than Daredevil was willing to let on in front of him.

He still had the Com-Card, though, and he seriously hoped that Fury wouldn't ring him while he was in class. That would just be absolutely inconvenient and embarrassing. For one, the teacher would think he had his cell phone on, and it wasn't like Peter would be able to tell him or her otherwise for fear of blowing his secret identity. Speaking of secret identities, Fury was dropping a boatload of hints that he knew who Spider-Man was behind the mask.

_Well, being the head of a super-secret international police force probably gives somebody the tools to figure out a lot of things,_ the web-slinger thought. _I just hope he doesn't plan on doing anything to make me cooperate with him. At least Giant-Man and Wasp are nice. Still, if I had to work with Hawkeye, I think I might go nuts. Wait, I have to work with him. Crap. And Daredevil probably isn't gonna be so easy to work with, either._

Something else came to Spider-Man's mind. _That guy in the red spider-suit . . . the one they're calling "Scarlet Spider" . . . he sounded a lot like Ben. Could he be . . . ?_

The web-slinger landed in a hidden corner of Midtown High's rooftop and began changing back into Peter Parker. As he was about to jump down, he saw Ben ride his motorcycle into the student parking lot and take off his helmet to reveal his mussed blond hair, holding said helmet under his arm while he headed inside the school. _You'd think if he were the Scarlet Spider, he'd have come the same way I did . . ._ Peter thought. _But then, motorcycles are cool, and they're a good way to look cool and stay incognito. I'll have to ask him._

Peter jumped down to the ground, keeping his Com-Card concealed in one of the pockets of his brown cargo pants. He did his best to give off the impression of complete nonchalance, though he'd settle for normal in a pinch. "Hey, Pete," Gwen greeted him. "Sorry I couldn't catch you while you were coming in."

"It's ok, Gwen," Peter answered. When they walked in, Peter spotted Ben at his locker, putting away his jacket and motorcycle helmet. "Hey, I'm gonna talk to Ben real quick."

Funnily enough, Ben was approaching Peter himself. "Hey, Pete, we need to talk."

"Speak of the devil," Peter muttered under his breath. Aloud, "Sure, Ben, what is it?"

"Not here," Ben whispered.

_Must be really serious,_ Peter thought. Once he and Ben had assured themselves of there being no chance of someone overhearing them, Peter turned to his cousin. "What's up, Ben? You've been out a lot lately. Trolling for girls?"

"No . . ." Ben replied. "It's got to do with that guy working at ESU, the one you and Gwen are interning under."

"Connors or Warren?"

"Warren. He's not on the up and up."

_Tell me about it,_ Peter thought. _He turned Morbius into a vampire, made a psycho clone of me, was probably responsible for Kraven's little transformation, and who knows what else that slimy bastard's been up to?_ Out loud, "Yeah? Anything we can tell the Connors about? Go to the police with?"

Ben stared blankly at Peter for a few moments. Just as he was about to speak, the homeroom bell rang. "Come on, we'd better get to class. I'll tell you when I can."

* * *

Inside the offices of one L. Thompson Lincoln, the aforementioned philanthropist and secret crime boss stared into the face of a beautiful Korean woman whose violet eyes glittered dangerously. She wore her hair in a pair of thick pigtails that looked a lot more like horns, and she wore a black-and-purple top attached to her body by way of eight straps that connected on her back to make a spider symbol. Covering her arms were a pair of detached purple sleeves that ended in fingerless gauntlets. The bottom half of her outfit was a loose pair of white karate uniform pants that had been cut to look like backless chaps, exposing a much tighter pair of pants underneath and held up by a triple-looped purple-edged black leather belt.

"Did my people give you some trouble?" Tombstone asked calmly.

"Not really," the woman replied with an evil smirk. "They went down easy. Too easy. No fun."

"What do you want?" Tombstone asked. "Are you one of the Kingpin's hirelings?"

"You and I have common enemies, Lincoln," the woman purred, in an effect that was creepily seductive. "Your enemy, the Kingpin, has joined forces with my enemy, Dictator M. Bison of Shadaloo. There would be much profit for us in aligning together, especially given that my organization has resources that yours does not."

"I'm listening," Tombstone responded coolly.

"We join forces, you keep your title as the Big Man of Crime . . . and I get Bison's head to mount on my wall," the woman stated.

"Who are you?"

"Juri. Juri Han. So what do you say, Lincoln? Do you want to give this a test drive?"

Tombstone assessed his options. On the one hand, he was not exactly inclined to trust this Juri Han, given the maniacal gleam in her eyes. On the other, it wasn't just Kingpin who was coming after him; he also had to worry about Silvermane and his daughter Sable. He would need all the help he could get, no matter his inclination not to trust gift horses.

"You have a deal."

"Good." And then Juri surprised him by suddenly splitting his desk in half with a powerful kick that left a trail of violet energy as her legs moved. "Defend yourself, L. Thompson Lincoln."

Tombstone growled and moved into a combat-ready stance. "Well?"

Juri swept her legs out into another energy-tinged kick, one that Tombstone managed to block with quick reflexes. Undeterred, Juri kicked at him again, and Tombstone dodged it this time before moving behind her to pull her into a tight hold. "Ooh, you're strong . . . I like that in my playmates," Juri purred, before bending backwards to kick Tombstone in the head in a motion of supreme flexibility.

The kick had come with enough force to momentarily stun Tombstone, which was enough for Juri to slip free of his grip and deliver a series of rapid-fire side kicks to his midsection. On the last kick, Tombstone grabbed her ankle and threw her at the wall, only for Juri to back-flip in midair and land gracefully on the floor, licking her lips seductively.

"Come on, baby. I want more."

Tombstone charged her, attacking with swift and powerful punches that could dent concrete. None of them connected, though, as Juri maneuvered out of the range of his strikes before somersaulting into the air and landing with an axe kick to his shoulder, the kick coming with nearly enough force to dislocate it. Being as tough as he was, Tombstone merely forced his arm back into place with not so much as a grunt and punched Juri in her exposed stomach, knocking the breath out of her.

"Oh, God, you're good . . ."

If Tombstone was surprised by this, he didn't let it show, electing to ask her a question. "What's the meaning of this?"

"The meaning?" Juri repeated, cocking her head as she moved into a fighting stance. "I couldn't ally myself with a weakling . . . and you're certainly no weakling."

"Testing me," Tombstone deduced. "Very well. How long do you want to play this game?"

"I've played enough for now," Juri answered with a slow, sensual smirk forming on her face. "But once I get a taste, I won't stop till I get it all . . . count on that, L. Thompson Lincoln." She turned on her heel and sashayed out of his office, leaving behind a perplexed Big Man of Crime.

"That woman will be trouble," Tombstone muttered to himself.

* * *

Meanwhile, lunchtime was in full swing in Midtown High, and Peter and Ben had gone to talk outside, somewhere they didn't think they'd be observed. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" Peter asked, keeping his voice low.

Ben began to sing a children's nursery rhyme. "Anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you. . . ."

"No, you can't!" Peter retorted before he could really stop himself.

"Yes, I can!" Ben rejoined.

"No, you can't," Peter answered.

"Wanna bet?" Ben asked, and performed a quadruple somersault from his standing position before landing on the school's brick-and-mortar wall in a spiderlike crouch. "Told you."

"How?" Peter asked.

"Warren," Ben replied. "He was sniffing around for subjects for a special scientific study, promised some decent money if we went through with it . . ."

"You said we," Peter cut in. "Who else?"

"Harry, Brian, Anya, and Mattie," Ben confessed. "We're the Web Corps."

"So . . . who's who?" Peter inquired.

"I'm the red guy, Scarlet Spider. Harry's in green, the Tarantula. Brian's the one in black. Anya's the lady in black, and Mattie's the one dressed up like you."

"What's Warren got on you?"

"Lots of things. Mattie wants to be a hero like you. Anya wants to protect Mattie. Harry wants to prove he's worth a damn, especially stacked up to you. Brian's just out for revenge for his mother."

"And you?"

"Me? . . . I thought it'd be interesting . . . and I figured you could use the backup."

"Yeah, sure. Now what's Warren using you guys for?"

"Dunno, but I've heard him talking over the phone with somebody when he thinks nobody's there. Gave us spider-powers and he didn't even think somebody would use them to try to figure out his game."

"Who do you think his little friend is?"

"Whoever it is, they sank big money into the five of us," Ben replied.

"You think you ought to get down from there before somebody sees you?" Peter asked.

"Like who?" Ben asked.

"I dunno, like that girl over there in the white headband and sailor outfit?"

Ben immediately jumped off the wall and landed in a crouch. "Where is she?"

"Over there," Peter replied, pointing to where a brunette Japanese girl in a white sailor shirt and a blue uniform skirt that stopped mid-thigh was practicing martial arts maneuvers. "That's good. She was too busy to see us."

"That's the new exchange student, right?" Ben surmised. "Sakura Kasugano?"

"Yeah, that's her," Peter confirmed.

Speaking of Sakura, the martial artist was now practicing her kicks on an especially thick tree, one that was beginning to show the strain of tanking so many powerful kicks. "Nice legs," Ben commented.

"Don't be a perv, Ben," Peter grumbled.

"Hey, I'm allowed to look," Ben answered insouciantly. "And I'm not the only one looking, am I?"

"Hey!" Peter protested. "I have a girlfriend, you know!"

"It happens," Ben commented nonchalantly. "Just because you have a girlfriend doesn't mean you're under contract to turn in your eyes. Besides, I know you. You wouldn't cheat on Gwen even if temptation bent over and let you see up her skirt."

"Nice imagery," Anya commented sardonically. "Hey, Benjy. Hey, Pete."

"Hi, Anya . . ." Peter greeted hesitantly, stunned that someone _had _been overhearing them.

"Hey, little eavesdropper," Ben greeted coolly.

"Not my fault you guys are so loud," Anya remarked. She looked past them to check out Sakura. "Whoa, she looks pretty tough."

"You don't say . . ." Peter uttered. Personally, he thought she looked more "cute" than "tough," but with those kicks, it was likely a good idea not to underestimate her. When next he looked, he saw Anya striding toward Sakura with resolve in her movements.

"Hey."

Sakura turned to Anya. "Oh, hey," she greeted the other girl in a friendly manner. "Anya, right?"

"Yeah," Anya confirmed. "You need a partner?"

"You do martial arts, too?" Sakura surmised.

"I was a gymnast for a long time, and I've been taking fight lessons," Anya confessed. "So how about it?"

"Sure . . ." Sakura replied.

"Then let's go!" Anya spun on her heel to deliver a 90-degree roundhouse kick, which Sakura blocked and pushed back against. Instead of losing her balance, Anya flipped back and contorted on her hands to kick Sakura again, striking her in the side of her ribs. Sakura stumbled back, and Anya pressed her advantage with a palm strike that Sakura stopped by catching Anya's wrist and flipping her. Anya just used the flip to regain her balance and spun again to perform another roundhouse kick, this time to the other girl's stomach.

"Anya!" Ben called out warningly.

Sakura just got up, dusted herself off, and smiled at Anya. "You're pretty strong."

"You, too," Anya answered. "Wanna keep going?"

"Sure!" Sakura replied brightly, and then jumped into the air with her leg out for a kick, spinning so fast she was like a tornado.

"Whoa!" Peter exclaimed.

Anya's reflexes were fast enough for her to try to catch Sakura's leg before her kick could connect, but the kick had just enough force to slap her arm out of the way and nearly dislocate it. Twisting around, Anya landed on her outstretched hand and twisted on it with her legs in the air to kick Sakura while she was just coming out of that maneuver. That much she managed to accomplish, even though Sakura had retaliated almost simultaneously with a crouching sweep kick that Anya had been barely able to evade in time.

"So what was that, huh?" Anya wondered as she and Sakura stood again. "Your Hurricane Kick? Not bad, but totally telegraphed."

"I call it the Shunpukyaku," Sakura clarified.

Just then, a strong yet serene male voice interrupted. "Sakura."

"Ryu!" Sakura cried out elatedly, running up to and eagerly embracing a well-muscled man. That man had short brown hair and wore a white fighting uniform that displayed his well-toned muscles. Most notably, a red martial arts headband similar to Sakura's was wrapped around his forehead, and he had absolutely no footwear. "Did you see?"

"I'm glad to see you're making new friends," Ryu greeted.

"Wait . . . Ryu . . ." Ben uttered. "Ryu? _The_ Ryu?"

"Hello," Ryu greeted Ben politely.

"You know him?" Peter asked.

"By reputation," Ben explained. "He's one of the best fighters in the world, if not _the_ best, and he's always looking for a challenge. Not in a scary way, but like in an 'I want to get to know you better' way."

"Yeah . . ." Peter murmured hesitantly.

"Is that your dad?" Anya asked Sakura, limping to her feet.

"I'm responsible for her while we're here, yes," Ryu replied.

_Wait a second, if Ryu's here and he's taking care of Sakura while she's here . . ._ Peter thought. Then he spoke his next thought out loud. "You're here for the tournament!"

"Yeah," Sakura confirmed cheerily. "It's my first time being in a big American city. I wonder what kind of fighters there'll be here."

"So do I, Sakura," Ryu admitted with a smile.

"Cool . . ." Peter murmured, while next to him, Ben looked like he was about to go into epileptic shock out of sheer excitement. Anya was looking pretty gleeful herself, given that her recent sparring partner was also the pupil of a world-renowned martial artist. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't ready to say something.

"Why do you have no shoes?"

"They're not my thing," Ryu answered, as if it was the simplest thing in the world not to like shoes.

"So how do you walk?" Anya asked.

"I have very tough soles," Ryu replied with a gentle smile.

"Ok, then," Anya conceded, in a tone that spoke of utter confusion.

* * *

That night, Ben was dressed as the Scarlet Spider and ready to go out and fight some crime. While the prison break had been stopped before _all_ the inmates could escape, there were still plenty who were free to go about causing trouble again. Somebody had to deal with them while Peter was busy with the Avengers. He figured that might as well be him, and it'd be a good distraction from thinking about just what the hell the not-so-good Doctor Miles Warren was playing at.

He perched next to a gargoyle, pondering the city below him . . . and the reasons he'd come here in the first place. He'd told Peter and Aunt May that his mother had sent him off, but he hadn't told them the whole truth, like _why._ It was that "why" that hung like a black cloud over his head and Warren knew about it. It was how he'd roped him into the Web Corps in the first place; one simple scientific study and all would be forgiven, he'd said.

_Yeah, that's why we're all being used by whoever's pulling Warren's strings,_ Ben thought grimly.

Pulling him out of his thoughts was a sultry female voice. "Hello, Spider. You look a little gloomy tonight."

"Oh, hey . . ." Ben greeted as he turned to see his visitor and found the Black Cat leaning seductively on the gargoyle, in all her latex-clad glory. Then he realized who his visitor was. "_Oh, hey . . ._"

"New web-slinger on the block, huh?" the Black Cat commented. "Heh, you're probably more fun than the one I know."

"And who would that be?" Ben asked.

"Spider-Man," the Black Cat replied with a slow smile. "He's a sweet guy, but . . . I need someone with a little more edge. Still, if he ever comes around . . ."

"And until then you're willing to settle?"

"I prefer to call it, 'exploring my options.'"

"So, you heard about this fight tournament they're hosting in the city?" the Scarlet Spider asked.

"Yeah," Black Cat replied. "Think of all the great prizes I'll be able to collect with everybody focused on the tournament."

"Well, not all of us are gonna be busy with the tournament," Ben observed. "Some of us . . . will be making sure thieves like you don't make off with everything."

"Charmer, aren't you?" Black Cat commented.

"I try," Scarlet Spider replied coolly.

"So what are you thinking about?"

"Not much. Life, the universe, super-powers, responsibility . . ."

"Sounds boring."

The Scarlet Spider snorted. "Yeah, maybe to a swinging feline like you . . ."

"Oh, really?" the Black Cat jibed.

"Yeah, really," Scarlet Spider answered back.

"Are you trying to pull one of those 'fight, then make out' moves with me?"

"Did you say you liked it?"

The platinum-haired cat burglar snickered. "You're funny."

"Thanks, I try."

Interrupting their banter was an explosion not too far away, but loud enough to be clearly heard. The Scarlet Spider shot a web-line in preparation to swing off so he could find the source of the explosion. "Rain check, kitty cat?"

"Rain check, ScarSpi."

"ScarSpi?"

"Like ScarJo, as in Scarlet Johannson."

"Name abbreviations? Ok."

The Black Cat chuckled. "Glad you like it. Just let me give you something to look forward to next time we see each other."

"And what would that be?" the Scarlet Spider asked, still holding onto his web-line.

The Black Cat answered by peeling his mask up until it rested over the bridge of his nose and kissing him on the lips. The Scarlet Spider was surprised at first, but eagerly reciprocated. Unlike Peter, it wasn't his first time kissing a girl, or doing other things with a girl. Alas, duty called, and he and Peter were very alike in that respect; neither liked shirking their obligations, especially now that they were web-spinning crime-fighters.

He gently but firmly pushed the Black Cat away. "You're a good kisser, but I've gotta go. Next time, kitty cat." He swung away on the web-line he almost hadn't realized he was still holding up until that point.

"Next time, spider," the Black Cat whispered, touching her lips softly.

* * *

Inside the Parker residence, Peter Parker was in his room pondering the Com-Card Nick Fury had given him. He was also pondering the new costume Fury had given him. It looked like his black costume, but the eyes on the costume looked a little sharper than before, and his spider symbol on the front was rather different, too. Instead of spreading across the chest, it was much larger, the body taking up most of the front. The top pair of spider legs went up to the shoulders, the next two pairs went around the sides, and the bottom pair of legs extended down the hips to stop at mid-thigh. He checked the back of the costume and saw the familiar back symbol, only in white instead of red and with sharper points on the legs.

"Why black?" Peter muttered.

Just then, the young man heard a tapping on the window. Hoping his Aunt May would think it was only the wind, Peter went to take a look, only to see Daredevil perched on his sill in a new costume. It was pitch black with two interlocking red D's on his chest, a cowl that covered his entire face, and metallic armor on his arms and legs that reminded Peter of razors.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, Spider-Man," Daredevil growled. "I'm here to retrieve you."

"Mission's begun, huh?" Peter remarked. "Wait, what makes you think I'm Spider-Man?"

"Your scent," Daredevil replied. "I tracked it here."

"You were following me?" Peter uttered. "Wow, stalker much?"

Daredevil glared. "Change. We've got work to do."

* * *

Endnotes: That'll be it for this chapter. There's a lot that happened here, and a lot that's going to be important to the plot later on in this arc, let alone this entire series. Ben's confessed to Peter that he's the Scarlet Spider, but what secrets of his past is he keeping from his cousin and will those secrets come back to bite him later? Midtown High has a Street Fighter in its midst, but will there be mayhem as a result of the World Warrior Tournament?

Of course there will be chaos, especially with the sexily sadistic Juri Han in the mix. Is Daredevil's connection to the Kingpin more personal than just vigilante and crime lord? What other fighters, both from Marvel's underworld and Street Fighter's coterie of villains, will arise to challenge our heroes? For the answers to those questions and others, hang on for the next chapter and be sure to review!


	3. Fierce Fighting Femmes

Spider's Advent, Part I:

"Street Samurai"

Chapter 3: "Fierce Fighting Femmes"

Disclaimer: Spectacular Spider-Man and other related characters and properties belong to Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios, and Disney Corporation. Street Fighter and all related characters and properties belong to Capcom and UDON. As I have no association with the previously mentioned companies and their paid talent, I do not own any of their properties. This story is solely for personal entertainment, although I hope my readers are also entertained.

Author's note: Been a while, hasn't it? Well, if it wasn't for CMR Rosa on my ass constantly with ideas for this story and questions about whether I intend to update, I might have taken a little longer. As is, I think I'm ready now, and hopefully you'll be, too. As you might be able to guess from the title, this chapter will introduce some very familiar fighting ladies – at least if you follow Street Fighter and the more street-level Marvel titles. And what about the havoc M. Bison and the Kingpin intend to unleash upon the streets of New York? All I can say for that is . . . "never fear, the Scarlet Spider is here!"

* * *

Peter gawked at Daredevil for a few uncomprehending seconds. "Wait, you want me to change right here, in front of you?"

"Is there a problem?" Daredevil asked.

"Yeah, there is!" Peter retorted heatedly. "I'm not changing in front of you!"

"We don't have time for you to be bashful," Daredevil responded. "Change. It's not like I'll look."

"And how do I know that?" Peter asked.

"Oh, and you don't have to worry," Daredevil added. "You and I are the only ones here."

"How do you . . . oh, super-senses," Peter rationalized. "But why wouldn't she . . . ?"

"Probably thought you were busy with some special project and didn't want to disturb you," Daredevil answered. "Now change. I'm not going to look."

"Swear?" Peter asked.

"Swear," Daredevil replied.

After overcoming his embarrassment at having someone else in the room with him, or at least hanging out his window, Peter changed into his S.H.I.E.L.D.-granted costume. He had to admit, it was very snug and yet surprisingly comfortable, like it'd been made specifically for him. It'd even come with web-shooters, only they were mounted on the backs of his wrists instead of on the underside like he normally had them. The triggers were still inside his palms, though, and he spared a moment to check himself out in the mirror.

"What's the point of giving me a black costume?" Spider-Man asked. "I have bad history with the color black in my wardrobe."

"Enough yakking," Daredevil grumbled. "Let's go."

* * *

With that statement, Spider-Man followed Daredevil out of his room, the two black-costumed vigilantes swinging through the city as the more experienced of the duo took the lead. They stopped on a high-rise rooftop, just in time for a Quinjet to land some distance away on that same rooftop. As Spider-Man and Daredevil waited with bated breath, six figures stepped out of the Quinjet.

Two of them Spider-Man recognized as Winter Soldier and the Black Widow. The third was dressed up like a stereotypical ninja, albeit with more armor on his arms, chest, thighs, and calves, and the familiar ninja sword was sheathed on his back. Three others Spider-Man did not recognize at all, and judging by Daredevil's body language, he didn't know them that well, either.

Two were women, one tall and dark-haired, the other petite and blonde. The third was a man, very tall and muscular, dressed in Army fatigues with Army dog tags dangling from his neck and impossibly gelled blond hair. The two women that flanked him were no slouches in the muscle department, either, but their muscles also seamlessly melded into feminine curves to create an aura of dynamically sexy toughness.

The dark-haired woman wore her hair in twin "ox horns" and was garbed in a light blue embroidered vest over a royal blue sleeveless unitard that clung quite appealingly to her long, muscular legs, complemented by a pair of heavy spiked bracelets. The blonde wore her hair in twin pigtails that came down almost to her knees and her outfit was far skimpier than her dark-haired companion's. Specifically, she wore a high-cut black leotard with neon green highlights that looked like circuitry and circuit-like neon green body paint on her legs, literally capped off with a black beret on her pretty blonde head.

Spider-Man did what he always did when he was flustered and in costume . . . wisecrack. "You know, you look like you could be in that new TRON movie," he commented to the blonde, who just scowled in response. "Tough crowd."

"You might want to be a little more serious," the blond man in the Army fatigues remarked.

"And who are you guys, anyway?" Spider-Man asked.

"What's the matter, kid, you don't recognize me?" the ninja-garbed man remarked in a very familiar-sounding voice.

"Hawkeye?" Spider-Man uttered. "What's with the ninja getup?"

"It's my disguise while I'm in the tournament," Hawkeye replied. "Call me Ronin."

"Is that why Fury gave me and Deeds these costumes?" Spider-Man asked.

Daredevil stared at him skeptically upon recognizing the nickname. Spider-Man just shrugged, and "Ronin" answered his question. "Uh-huh. He wants you guys to be a little less recognizable while you're in the World Warrior Tournament."

"Well, thanks, because I certainly don't recognize myself," Spider-Man commented. "Now who are your party pals?"

That was when Nick Fury stepped out of the Quinjet, his arms folded over his broad chest. "The lady in the unitard is Chun-Li, a special agent on loan from Interpol. The girl in the cap is Cammy from Delta Red, a special subdivision of our counterpart in Britain – S.T.R.I.K.E. And the man with them is Guile, the S.H.I.E.L.D. liaison to the U.S. Army." He looked back at "Ronin," Black Widow, and Winter Soldier before turning to Spider-Man and Daredevil. "And you obviously know Agents Barton, Romanoff, and Barnes."

"What have they got to do with this?" Daredevil asked.

"Chun-Li, Cammy, and Guile have up-close-and-personal experience with M. Bison," Fury replied. "Ergo, they'll be working with you five to bring down Bison's operation before he can incorporate the super-thugs in this city into his organization."

"Speaking of super-thugs, a bunch of them escaped despite my and Deeds' best efforts," Spider-Man pointed out. "Bison might try to recruit some of them."

"Or they might be former employees of the Kingpin," Daredevil added.

"Good points," Fury admitted, "but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If Bison and Kingpin recruit them, you'll likely run afoul of them, anyway. Until then, the main objective is getting on the inside of their operation and shutting it down before it's too late. We don't need either of them getting a foothold in this city's underworld."

"You sure about those two?" Cammy asked, her accent very British. "The Spider sounds like a kid who's going to get himself killed."

"I'll have you know that I'm twenty-six," Spider-Man prevaricated, i.e. lied like hell. "And it's Spider-_Man._"

Cammy snorted. "Yeah, right."

"And you're rather cute and youthful-looking yourself, Cam," Spider-Man retorted. "I can call you 'Cam,' right?"

"Relax," Guile rumbled with a slightly amused smirk. "Plenty of kids back in the day lied about their ages so they could serve. They were real men, even if they weren't old enough to drink."

"Uh, thanks," Spider-Man replied. "But I am twenty-six. Seriously."

Chun-Li giggled, while "Ronin" coughed loudly to disguise his mutters of, "Yeah, right," prompting a scowl from Spider-Man.

"Enough," Fury growled. "The eight of you are going to be working together, so a little professional pride might be in order here."

"Professional pride?" Spider-Man repeated. "I don't even work for you guys. Strictly freelance here." That earned him a hard elbow from Daredevil, although Spider-Man's constitution meant that it was more annoyance than anything else.

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose briefly, muttering something that Spider-Man couldn't catch but suspected to be a curse in regards to himself. "Not anymore, kid. As of this moment, you and Daredevil are deputized agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I expect you to bring down Bison, Kingpin, and anyone else who might be in cahoots with them. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Spider-Man replied with an exaggerated Army salute.

Fury just stared at the web-slinger for a moment. "I'll take that as a yes."

"That's exactly what it was, sir," Spider-Man confirmed impishly.

Fury sighed. "You . . . are going to be my death, kid." Straightening up, he looked at the assembled team before him. "You have your mission, and since the World Warrior Tournament starts tomorrow . . . I expect you to carry it out with full efficiency. From this point onward, Spider-Man, Daredevil, you are no longer solo vigilantes operating on your own timetables. You are operating on _my_ time, and that means whatever the hell it is you do when you're not in costume, if I need you, you drop it immediately, get in costume, and get to work. Understood?"

"That might be a little bit of a problem," Spider-Man remarked, "since I go to school and all. Graduate school, I mean, and I really don't want to waste my scholarship . . ."

"You like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" Cammy drawled, sourly amused.

"Hmm, pretty much," Spider-Man answered. "It breaks tension."

"We'll be ready, Fury," Daredevil responded.

"Good," Fury said. He looked to the contingent of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with him, and then to the Interpol-Delta Red-U.S. Army triangle with him. "See you then."

As they walked back into the Quinjet one by one, Spider-Man noticed that Ronin's eyes were going certain places when it came to their owner's gaze upon Chun-Li and Cammy. _Maybe I ought to say something . . ._ Spider-Man's train of thought derailed itself when his own eyes wandered to the same places Ronin's had. He briefly swallowed, trying to contain his super-powered teenaged hormones. _I am not a pervert, I am not a pervert . . . Damn, she's jacked . . . _

His chaotic thought processes abruptly stopped thanks to the firm hand clasped on his shoulder. "You're staring," he heard Daredevil's harsh rasp in his ear.

"How do you know?" Spider-Man whispered back, trying not to let on just how flustered he was.

"I know," Daredevil replied simply. "And if you're done, we've got work to do."

"We?" Spider-Man asked.

"Since we're working together, it's time you saw a little bit of this city's dark side for yourself," Daredevil answered. "A little demonstration on my part that not all the psychos in this city wear costumes. Some of them are a little more low-key in how they prey on the innocent."

"Uh, you sound like one of those grim and gritty street samurai," Spider-Man remarked.

Daredevil grunted softly as he pulled a baton off his wrist and fired a grapple from it. "Coming or not?"

Spider-Man aimed his web-shooter and shot a web-line. "Coming."

* * *

Inside the hovering Quinjet, Chun-Li caught Cammy looking out at the street below through the viewfinder of her camera. "Taking in the sights?" Chun-Li remarked with a curious smile.

"Yeah," Cammy replied idly. She wasn't about to tell Chun-Li that those "sights" were really Spider-Man's muscles flexing gracefully as he acrobatically maneuvered through the city, only emphasized by the tight black suit Fury had given him.

"You wouldn't be eyeing Spider-Man, would you?" Guile asked. "He's just a kid."

"He said he was twenty-six," Cammy protested. "And who said I was looking at Spider-Man? Why would I even be looking at him in the first place? It's not like I even know if he's cute under that mask! And he talks too much to be healthy, anyway." As she ranted in that vein, it was quite noticeable that her cheeks had flushed a vivid pink.

"So I'm guessing you haven't had your tea yet?" Ronin asked snidely.

Cammy scowled at the marksman-turned-ninja before letting out an indignant huff. Guile just smiled. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much," he quipped, prompting a low growl from Cammy as Chun-Li let out a giggle.

Even the Black Widow couldn't help but smile a little, and Winter Soldier's expression had relaxed somewhat from sheer amusement. "Fun little bunch we have here," the young-looking old soldier replied.

"Yeah," Fury agreed. He could already hear Rick Jones in his head, describing the exact pattern Cammy's behavior fell into where the web-slinger was concerned. What was that word? _Tsundere. Lovely._

* * *

Inside the clock tower that served as the Kingpin's current residence and base of operations, Wilson Fisk himself was in a meeting with his newfound ally M. Bison. He was not alone, though, and neither was Bison; both crime lords were flanked by their best assassins.

Surrounding Fisk were two men and a woman, both men having their heads shaved bald but one being lean and wiry and the other being broad and heavily muscled. The wiry man wore a black leather trench coat over a black muscle shirt and somewhat loose black pants with black combat boots and a liberally studded belt. What definitely set him apart from anyone else on the street . . . was the bull's-eye mark tattooed onto his forehead. The more muscular of the two men simply wore a white undershirt and black pants with thick leather patches, plus studded armbands and retractable wrist-mounted saw blades.

The woman was incredibly beautiful, her rich tan and perfectly crafted face speaking of Greek heritage. Her hair was like a midnight wave cascading down her back and her eyes were a cold, piercing jade, her ruby-painted lips pressed in a straight line. She wore a red leather bustier hooked to red leather pants by way of a pair of garters framing her smooth yet muscled abs, and red leather boots with laces up the shins, plus sheaths on either thigh for her three-pronged daggers, the sai.

The two men with Bison were as different as night and day, almost literally. One man was tall and muscular, with dark skin suggesting African heritage and his hair cut in such a way that it was almost a flat Mohawk. He wore a sleeveless black shirt that could barely contain his muscles and a pair of royal blue boxing shorts with tape wrapped around his arms and hands. The other man was tall but sinewy, and had blond hair tied back in a very long braid, his upper body utterly bare to expose both his musculature and the snake tattoo winding around it. A deathly white mask concealed his face, and a set of wicked claws was mounted on his right arm.

The masked man let out an appreciative "mm" at the sight of the red-clad woman, his eyes beneath said mask glittering with lust. "Quite lovely, you are . . ."

"Her name is Elektra," the Kingpin introduced, "and she is my most trusted assassin."

"Introduce the other two," Bison entreated, but it was more of a demand than anything else. Fisk bit back an irritated growl; Bison had resources that he needed if he was to take back his empire from "L. Thompson Lincoln," and he could hardly afford to alienate the man right now.

"Bullseye and Gladiator," Fisk introduced the two men with him. "Gladiator is my close-combat specialist and his brutality is second to none in my organization. Bullseye is my long-range specialist . . . and do you want to hear a secret?"

"What?" Bison asked.

The next thing Bison knew, his hat had been knocked off by a three-bladed shuriken. Fisk's lips merely twisted into a deadly smirk, one not helped by the gleam in his dark blue eyes. "Bullseye can turn anything into a projectile, and his aim is second to none in the whole world. If he'd wanted to kill you with that shuriken . . . you and I would not be talking right now."

Bison had retrieved his hat with his quick reflexes and put it back on his head, so quickly almost no one had had time to register what he looked like without it. "An interesting talent," he remarked. "And now I will show you mine, so to speak." He gestured to the two men with him, turning first to the dark-skinned man in the boxing uniform. "This one is called Balrog, my most brutal fighter." Then he moved to the bare-chested blond with the claw attached to his arm. "This one is called Vega, my most skilled and enthusiastic fighter, who also has an eye for the finer things in life . . ."

Elektra didn't miss the lecherous leer aimed in her direction, either by Bison or by Vega. She kept her face placid, only a slight narrowing of her eyes a giveaway for how disgusting she found the two men. That same narrowing of her eyes also served to warn Bison and Vega that she was far more dangerous than either could possibly expect, doom being their only fate should they underestimate her.

"I presume we will all be working together in the tournament?" the Kingpin remarked.

"Yes," Bison confirmed. "We will be hunting down specific targets . . . men and women I find to possess potential as soldiers within our alliance. The altered ones who fight on your streets . . . who deny you what is yours . . . they will become our servants."

"Surely they will not come willingly," Kingpin observed.

"They do not need to," Bison replied confidently. "We will take them by force, and once they have been infused with my Psycho Power, they will be ours to exploit in bringing down those organizations that would stand against us."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. . . ." Kingpin growled.

"Yes . . ." Bison hissed. "And you and I both will settle some very old scores in the process, now won't we?"

"A profitable endeavor, this just may be," Fisk mused aloud. "You have yourself an alliance . . . for the moment."

"The right moment will be all I need," Bison replied fearlessly, an evil smirk on his face.

* * *

Inside the offices of L. Thompson Lincoln, the man secretly known as the Big Man of Crime and better known as Tombstone looked at the ensemble before him. Three of them were his Enforcers – or now, the _New_ Enforcers. Thanks to the Tinkerer, the Shocker (Montana) had had his shockwave gauntlets upgraded so that he could use them in close-quarters combat as well as long-range combat. Fancy Dan now wore a specialized suit that built up energy the more he moved and then used that same energy to propel him at faster and faster speeds, fast enough to challenge Spider-Man. Ox wore a similar suit, but his was more like armor designed to channel his kinetic energy into ever-increasing physical strength, and paired with the abilities of Fancy Dan's – no, _Ricochet's_ – suit, would be more than enough to bring down the wall-crawler.

The other two were women and relatively new hires. One was a beautiful but psychotic redhead with half her face painted white and garbed in skimpy leather and torn fishnets that did nothing to hide her body . . . just as she liked it, apparently. The other was a slightly more conservatively dressed woman with dark hair tied back in a long, thin braid and a leather jacket over a dark violet leotard with thigh-high boots.

"Didn't she used to be one of the Kingpin's floozies?" Shocker asked in his distinctive twang.

"Typhoid Mary is with us now," Tombstone replied. "I presume you trust _my_ judgment, even if you don't trust _her._"

"What's the matter, Montana?" Typhoid asked, sinuously sidling up to him. "Scared I might bite?"

"I don't like working with lunatics," Shocker replied.

"Regardless of whether or not you like her, she is important to the goal of this exercise," Tombstone cut in.

"And that reminds me . . . what about this woman you've got us allied with?" Shocker inquired. "She don't seem all that together herself."

Tombstone turned a long hard stare on the Shocker. "Ironically, in questioning the professionalism of your comrades, you have made me doubt yours. Do not give me cause to lose faith in you."

"Fine," Shocker assented. "But a word of advice, boss . . . lie down with dogs, you catch fleas."

Typhoid Mary giggled, and it was not a reassuring sound in the slightest. "Want me to present for you?" she taunted. "Facedown and all? I can do that . . . and so much more . . ."

Shocker growled angrily. "If it wasn't for my professionalism, boss, I'd have tried these lovely new shock gauntlets on her."

"I'm glad you have that much restraint, Shocker," Tombstone sniped. "Typhoid, you may stop pestering him now."

Typhoid whined, but pried herself off Shocker obediently. "So what do we do?"

"Kingpin will have likely recruited his most trusted hirelings to carry out his dirty work in the tournament," Tombstone explained. "I want you lot to take them down wherever you find them. If it leads you to the Kingpin and his accomplice, so much the better . . . we can put an end to his so-called return before it even begins."

"What about Spider-Man?" Ox asked.

"If he interferes, take him down," Tombstone replied simply. "That goes for anyone else who might also interfere . . . especially the so-called 'man without fear,' the Daredevil."

Typhoid smirked, licking her lips almost seductively. "Leave him to me, Tombstone. I'm the most experienced with him, after all."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Shocker muttered acidly.

"You're dismissed," Tombstone declared. "Go forth. Do what you do best."

After they'd left, Hammerhead entered the room. "You sure this is such a good idea, teaming up with that woman?" he asked.

"Let me worry about that, Hammerhead," Tombstone replied darkly. "You just keep the ship in order."

"Yeah, sure, boss," Hammerhead assented.

"Everyone seems so scared of me . . ." a sultry female voice purred. "It kinda makes me hot . . ."

At that moment, another energy-tinged whirling kick came down on Tombstone's mahogany desk, shattering it into even more pieces on impact than the last one had. "I just replaced that," Tombstone deadpanned.

"Goddamn it, you psycho bitch!" Hammerhead yelled, charging into a frontal assault with his taser knuckles equipped. Juri Han responded by blocking his fist with her upraised knee and then snapping her leg out for a brutal kick that threw the 1920s-obsessed gangster into the wall . . . and literally embedded him inside it. Tombstone stared at her with a deadpan expression that belied just how terrifically frightening he found her.

"Is that your right-hand man?" Juri asked. "Didn't even last a minute."

"Is there a reason you entered like that?" Tombstone asked.

"There is," Juri replied. "I wanted to see you."

"See me?" Tombstone repeated, not letting on just how confused he really was by her.

"You remind me of my former master . . . before I killed him and took his organization, of course," Juri answered with a slow smile.

Tombstone just stared, the silence broken only by Hammerhead's pained groan. "Somebody get me out of this frigging wall . . ."

"Aww, did that hurt, you poor thing?" Juri taunted, suddenly right next to Hammerhead before either he or Tombstone could blink, her left eye glowing in a way that made her look even scarier. "Here, let Mama give you a hand!" She ripped him out of the wall, only to flip into the air and contort in such a way that she seemed to stroke his face while upside down. Then she kicked him hard enough to knock him into the ground, fortunately not embedding him in it like with the wall.

"Do you find it difficult to come here without abusing something of mine . . . or someone?" Tombstone inquired sardonically.

"No . . ." Juri answered, sauntering toward Tombstone. "It's just _fun._ And you could use a little more of that in your life, Mr. Lincoln. Who knows? I might just show you a whole new world. . . ." Her tone had taken on an increasingly seductive pitch as she'd spoken to him, which just served to unnerve the hardened crime lord even more . . . though he would not show it.

_This woman is going to be the death of me,_ he thought.

* * *

Deep within the labyrinth of metropolitan New York, a certain Scarlet Spider was swinging on his web-lines, both enjoying the thrill and on the lookout for trouble. Speaking of trouble, he wondered how Peter would feel if he knew about the special interest the Black Cat, his erstwhile paramour, had taken in him. Then again, Peter was with Gwen, so he probably wouldn't have many complaints about his favorite cousin taking the sultry cat burglar off his hands.

He was starting to worry, though. The not-so-good doctor was up to something, that much he could ascertain from what little he'd gleaned from eavesdropping on the man. Whatever it was, it involved him, Harry, Anya, Mattie, and Brian . . . he repressed a worried shudder at the thought of the angriest of their party of five. Brian had been going out on his own, too, but mostly to beat up various scumbags, and he didn't spare them the talons, leaving them with hideous gashes on their faces that Ben still shuddered at the memory of seeing.

He went into a dive, figuring the thrill of a controlled fall would take his mind off the more troubled of their little Web Corps. At the nadir of his descent, the Scarlet Spider did a front flip and fired off a pair of web-lines to slow his fall. Once the web-lines had stretched enough thanks to his descent, he used them to rocket upwards, performing acrobatic twists and somersaults as he rose higher and higher.

"No wonder he enjoys this so much," Ben muttered to himself. After realizing he was high above the skyscrapers of Manhattan, he fired a web-line to catch one of those spires and swung down like some kind of rollercoaster ride. Letting out a whoop of excitement, he released his web at the lowest point of his swing and fired another web to swing up from before landing contentedly next to a familiar gargoyle. "Fancy meeting you here, Goliath."

He gently patted the gargoyle on its head as though it were a beloved pet. "You know, it's funny the curveballs life will throw at you. One day, you're a semi-normal high school kid who just got sent off across the country to live with an aunt and cousin you haven't seen in forever, and the next day, you find out your cousin's a superhero and you get the same powers as him thanks to a creepy doctor. Then you fight all sorts of bad guys, help avert an apocalypse, and . . . well, nowhere to go from there but up."

"You must love hearing yourself talk, don't you?" a voice remarked, prompting the Scarlet Spider to turn and see a beautiful white-haired young woman garbed in a skintight silver combat suit.

"I don't think I've seen you around these parts before," the red-clad web-slinger remarked. "Care to introduce yourself?"

"Silver Sable," the woman replied, before drawing a large, bulky rifle that she pointed at him. "I've heard about your reflexes, Spider-Man. I want to see how they deal with point blank range."

"While I'm flattered, I think you got the wrong guy," Ben answered. "Granted, you did get the 'Spider' part right, so I can almost forgive you, but there's a little important something you overlooked . . ."

Sable's lips – which Ben noticed were a delightful shade of pink, and appealingly full – twitched with annoyance and she pulled the trigger. At the moment she pulled, though, the Scarlet Spider dove off the skyscraper, regretfully leaving behind "Goliath" as he plummeted as far from Sable's shots as he could manage. The interesting thing, though, was that the bullets weren't bullets at all . . . unless they were now made in the shape of giant staples.

"What the hell kinda weapon is that?" he wondered.

His spider-sense wasn't stopping just because he was able to twist and turn out of the way of her staple-bullets. A look at the ground below gave him the sight of a bare-chested, supremely muscular man with a pair of gauntlets that looked more like giant razors positioned to look like fingers . . . and he had those razor-like fists up and ready. The Scarlet Spider shot his webs downward, hoping to gum up the man's main weapons, but to his shock and worry the man just sliced the webs apart with his punches.

"Damn . . ." he muttered. "That's not good."

Twisting around so that he was falling feet-first, Scarlet attempted to kick the man in the head, only to end up having to dodge his razor punches. The gauntleted man just snickered. "Well, well. Looks like we caught the Spider-Man in another one of his costume changes."

"Sorry, but I'm not Spider-Man," Ben corrected. "I'm the Scarlet Spider."

"Scarlet Spider, huh?" the man echoed, as if tasting the name. "So what are you supposed to be? His brother? His cousin? Nephew? Brother-in-law, maybe?"

"Not telling you that, Razorfist," the Scarlet Spider answered.

"Razorfist?" the man repeated, sounding as though he was tasting that name, too.

"Yeah, why not?" Scarlet went on. "You have those gauntlets on your arms that look like razors set in the shape of a hand, and you use them to punch people like me to death. Why not call you Razorfist? Plus, your intimidation factor will go way up if you introduce yourself to your targets with that name."

The newly dubbed Razorfist snickered. "I like you. I'm going to kill you, but I like you."

"I'm so touched," Scarlet drawled sardonically. "But in any case . . ." He snapped out his arm to fire impact webbing at Razorfist, but Razorfist met it with his own fists. When the glob exploded all over his gauntlets and started wrapping around his whole body, Razorfist simply started slashing through it, only for Scarlet to go after him with high-speed punches and kicks. His spider-sense went off again, and he thought it was because Razorfist was about to get one of his hands free long enough to do him some damage, but it turned out he had to dodge Sable's staple-bullets.

"While I appreciate the creative work that went into your reinvention of the bullet, don't you think staples are a bit ridiculous?" the Scarlet Spider asked.

"Do you ever shut up?" Sable wondered aloud as she kept firing.

"Do you ever run out of bullets?" the Scarlet Spider retorted as he kept dodging. "And why are you after me, anyway?"

"We're after Spider-Man," Sable replied. "You'll do for now, at least as a test run."

"I don't know if I should feel flattered or insulted," Scarlet Spider commented, "but I'm getting sick and tired of being shot at." He fired another impact webbing glob at Sable, managing to jam her staple gun. Before he had any time to savor his momentary triumph, he had to dodge Razorfist's razor-gauntleted fists, which he managed in the form of a back-flip that he used to web his opponent's arms from behind. After all, he couldn't very well tear through the webs when he couldn't see them coming.

Silver Sable, on the other hand, just took a running leap that turned into a forward flip off Razorfist's shoulders and into a flying kick that caught Scarlet Spider by surprise. Not so much by surprise that he couldn't dodge, but surprising enough that it was a very close call. Recovering quickly, Sable spun into a roundhouse kick that struck the web-slinger about as fast as a cobra seizing its prey. Stumbling back a little, the Scarlet Spider attempted to brace himself for a further assault, but Sable was exploiting her window of opportunity for all it was worth, peppering the red-garbed wall-crawler with fast jabs and kicks.

"Damn, you're good," Scarlet remarked breathlessly as he blocked Sable's punches and kicks. Then he whirled into a backhanded strike that knocked Sable to the ground, more out of imbalance induced by her surprise at how forcefully he'd struck than the actual strength of his blow. Sable was quick to recover, sweeping her leg out while on the ground to trip Scarlet, who just did a cartwheel over her leg . . . only for her to catch his arm with her leg and pull him to the ground with her.

"So are you . . ." she whispered.

"Are you trying to do me in or just do me?" the Scarlet Spider asked.

"Shut up," Sable snapped and twisted around for a heel drop on his head, only for Scarlet Spider to roll out of the way and spring into a battle-ready crouch. With an agile twist of her hips, Sable moved back onto her feet in a wide-legged stance with both arms extended, one slightly behind the other.

"I can keep this dance up all night," Scarlet Spider taunted. "Can you?"

Just as Sable was about to retort, Scarlet's spider-sense went off and he had to leap out of the way of a charging Razorfist, who would have hit Sable instead had Scarlet not ensnared him with a pair of web-lines and used them to throw him as hard as he could without killing him. Razorfist, being who he was, merely tore out of the webbing and charged for Scarlet Spider again, only to be ensnared in a massive web and swung around by the web-slinger before being tossed to the ground most brutally.

"And I'm not done yet!" Scarlet shouted, ricocheting rapidly around Razorfist while beating him down on every single pass he made and finishing with a forceful drop kick. Seeing Razorfist prone on the ground made the Scarlet Spider think for a moment that maybe he'd gone too far . . . but a pained groan let him know that the man was still alive. He turned to Silver Sable with a wry smile that she couldn't see behind his mask. "You wanna tell me who the hell you're working for that wants Spidey dead so badly?"

"None of your business," Sable replied.

"Sure, whatever . . . it's not like you're up to anything illegal," Scarlet rejoined sarcastically. "Although considering your backup is a pile of human wreckage right now . . . you might wanna take some time to reassess your options here."

Sable snorted. "Cutting my losses would be best for the moment, I'll admit . . . but that doesn't mean I'm done with you. All you've done is make an enemy you'll live to regret having."

"I'll believe it when you come after me with bigger guns next time," Scarlet replied. "And you _will_ be coming after me again, won't you? I _hate_ one-night stands." He fired a web and swung away, leaving Silver Sable to scowl at her unconscious partner before taking out a combat knife to slice off the webbing that kept him trapped.

"Father is not going to be pleased," she muttered to herself.

* * *

Inside a hotel room, Sakura Kasugano was on the phone. "You're coming, too!"

"Of course I'm coming, Sakura," a haughty-sounding young female voice replied on the other end. "The Kanzaki clan must be the best in all things, and that includes the martial arts. Besides, I want to meet this Ken. I like his style."

Sakura giggled. "When do you think you'll make it, Karin?"

"My private jet's already in American airspace," Karin replied with a smirk in her tone. "You should be seeing me very, _very_ soon . . . and when you do, prepare to be taught a lesson or two."

Sakura burst out laughing. "Nice rhyme, Karin!"

Karin huffed, but it was more affectionate than anything else. "Just get ready to lose when we see each other again!"

"Whatever you say, Karin," Sakura replied cheerfully. At the moment their conversation ended, Ryu and the aforementioned Ken, the latter dressed in a red gi and loose pants, entered the hotel room.

"Oh, hey, Sakura," Ken greeted. "Ryu's been keeping a good eye out for you, right?"

"Yeah, Ken-san," Sakura replied.

"There are some very interesting fighters in this tournament," Ryu commented. "And I believe certain old friends of ours have been quite active with those fighters."

"Yeah, I keep hearing stories about this guy who can stick to walls, shoot sticky webs, and move and fight like an acrobat on PCP . . ." Ken added.

"You mean Spider-Man?" Sakura asked.

"Him and five newbs," Ken replied. "And speaking of, I heard you made a new friend at school."

"Her name's Anya," Sakura answered. "I'd love to fight her for real."

"And speaking of your friends, I hear Karin Kanzaki's coming," Ken remarked.

"She's not the only one," Ryu added, all levity gone from his voice. "Certain people we would rather not see again are here, too."

"You'd better not mean who I think you mean," Ken retorted grimly.

"Akuma . . ." Ryu whispered.

"Akuma?" Sakura echoed.

"Akuma," Ken growled. This would not be just another tournament. If Akuma was going to be there, it would be a slaughterhouse.

* * *

End Notes: Better to end it here. I was thinking about doing it after the Scarlet Spider/Silver Sable/Razorfist fight, but then I remembered I still hadn't introduced Ken and Akuma, so I decided to introduce Ken and set up Akuma's debut for the next chapter. For the record, Razorfist is an actual Marvel villain, but I decided to change up his design a bit . . . and it'll actually tie into a subplot running concurrently with "Street Samurai's" main plot.

Typhoid Mary and Gladiator are both Daredevil villains, but they're a little more obscure compared to Bullseye and Elektra. Delilah is a rather obscure Spider-Man villain introduced during the latter Clone Saga period, and I intend to introduce at least one other femme fatale from that era in this story. Street Fighter fans should recognize Vega and Balrog, and the costume Cammy wears was inspired by some interesting fan art I found on the Internet. I got no excuse for Chun-Li except that I like the Alpha costume a little better.

For the record, I am terribly sorry for having taken so long with this chapter. My only explanation is that the creative juices were quite stalled and I needed some time to get them flowing again. Now that they have, it's entirely possible I can work on some of the other stories I've put on the backburner and even introduce some new stories I've been juggling ideas for. Be on the lookout, true believers, because you haven't seen anything yet!


	4. Those Who Hide Behind the Shadows

Spider's Advent, Part I:

"Street Samurai"

Chapter 4: "Those Who Hide Behind the Shadows"

Disclaimer: Spectacular Spider-Man is not mine by any means; it belongs to Marvel Comics and Marvel Entertainment Studios. Street Fighter is not mine, either; it belongs to Capcom and those licensed to make comic, televised, or film adaptations of its characters and stories. All characters and properties associated with or related to Spectacular Spider-Man or Street Fighter are owned by Marvel or Capcom, and there is no personal profit to be made from this story other than the entertainment derived from those reading it.

Author's note: Well, it's been a while, again. As you can see, I've been occupied by various other stories, some of which have gone without update for many months now. Of course, I am not going to give up on this story, no matter how daunting in scope it might be. On plot-related issues, the World Warrior Tournament is beginning to heat up, with friends and enemies to be made by our web-slinging hero . . . but what about the machinations at work behind the scenes? Will Spider-Man and his allies be able to take charge of the situation, or will they find themselves in far over their heads? For the answers to those questions and others, read on.

* * *

Peter Parker sat at his lunch table glowering at the S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue Com-Card Nick Fury had given him. He praised his lucky stars that it hadn't gone off in the middle of class, but he knew his luck couldn't last that long. In fact, worrying about when the thing was going to go off and transmit an order from Nick Fury to suit up and get going was starting to drive him about as nutty as Harry's former Green Goblin alter ego.

So absorbed in his thoughts he was that he almost failed to notice someone approaching him until their shadow was directly obscuring his sunlight. "Hey, tiger," a familiar voice greeted him. "Mind if Gwen and I sit here with you?"

Peter nearly whirled in surprise. "MJ? Gwen?"

"You look kinda spooked there," Gwen observed. "I thought nothing slipped past you."

"It doesn't work like that if I'm distracted," Peter admitted.

"Hey, nice credit card," Mary Jane remarked, spotting the Com-Card Peter had been holding. "Your aunt thinks you're ready to handle it?"

Peter sniffed in amusement. "No, not a credit card. It's from a guy named Nick Fury."

"The war hero?" Gwen asked.

"Wait, you've heard of him?" Peter inquired.

"Who hasn't?" Gwen answered. "Head of S.H.I.E.L.D., decorated war hero, promoted in light of all the craziness with super-powered people out there – some of which we've experienced for ourselves right here in M3." She let out a soft, almost nervous chuckle at that.

"It's ok, Gwen," Peter said, reaching out to touch her hand. "What I do . . . it can be scary sometimes, and you and MJ getting in the middle of it because of me . . ."

Gwen patted Peter's hand reassuringly before she stared him down. "I'm not a total shrinking violet, Peter. After the Venom incidents, my dad agreed to let me learn some takedown moves in case I ever get into that kind of trouble again and Spider-Man's not right on the scene."

"And my kickboxing courses are going quite well, actually," Mary Jane added with an impish smirk. "Bet I could handle _you_ just fine, Tiger."

"Helps that she's been using me for practice," a familiar amiable male voice cut in. "Among other things."

"Oh, hey, Scott," Mary Jane greeted the sunglasses-wearing brunet as he pecked her on the cheek. "What's up?"

"Not much," Scott replied. "Been making some new acquaintances, one of whom I think you and Gwen would get along fine with, Peter."

"Who might that be?" Peter asked.

"I remember her taking a Computer Sciences elective with you two," Scott replied. "And she could use some more friends."

"She?" Gwen repeated, staring a hole at Scott.

"Uh, yeah," Scott admitted sheepishly. "Her name's Kitty."

"Kitty?" Peter echoed curiously.

"Yeah, it's the name she goes by," Scott replied, tugging his collar in embarrassment.

"Sounds cute," Gwen remarked.

"Speaking of cute . . ." Peter trailed off, seeing Anya chatting excitedly with Mattie and Sakura at a nearby table. Listening in on the girls, he heard the subject of conversation turn to his costumed alter ego.

"So what do you think of Spider-Man?" Mattie asked eagerly.

"Ryu-san's afraid of spiders," Sakura admitted. "But I think he's being silly. Spiders are more afraid of people than people are of spiders. I mean, if you were that small and everything around you was that much bigger . . ."

"Some spiders are poisonous," Anya remarked idly. "Your dad might just be scared of getting sick after being bitten."

Sakura blushed at the thought of Ryu as her father. "Umm . . . I think Spider-Man sounds like a good guy."

"He's a real, true blue hero!" Mattie enthused. "I just don't like how my Uncle Jonah is always using his paper to say bad things about him."

"He owns _The Daily Bugle,_ right?" Sakura asked. "And you and Peter Parker work there?"

"I'm just an intern," Mattie admitted. "Peter's the one chasing Spider-Man's tail all the time so Uncle Jonah can have pictures to put on the front page."

Mary Jane and Gwen giggled at hearing that description of what Peter allegedly did to get Spider-Man's photograph. Scott just tittered softly to himself, and even Peter couldn't help but be amused. Then he remembered something important, and turned to Gwen. "Have you talked to Harry lately?"

"He hasn't seemed to want to talk," Gwen admitted somberly. "Ever since he found out about us being together . . ."

"Yeah," Peter murmured sadly.

"He probably doesn't want to feel like a third wheel," Mary Jane tried to reassure the young couple. "I've been there before."

"Do you feel like a third wheel?" Peter asked.

"Since I hooked up with Scott? Not really," Mary Jane replied, looping her arm around that of her ruby-shaded beau.

Peter sighed with relief. _It's a lot worse than you know. Harry's gone and hooked up with Warren to get spider-powers almost exactly like mine, and so have Anya, Ben, Mattie, and Brian. Whatever Warren's endgame is, it's probably nothing good for them . . . or me, for that matter._

Interrupting his musings was an imperious Japanese girl with her shockingly blonde hair styled in elegant ringlets. She wore a midriff-baring red sailor fuku with tight black bike shorts long enough to peek out of her skirt, but even that outfit looked like a queen's costume the way she strode in his direction like she owned the place. "Hello," she greeted in accented English. "Where's Sakura Kasugano?"

"Uh, over there," Peter replied, pointing some three tables down from his position. "Mind if I ask your name?"

"Yours first," the girl retorted.

Peter internally groaned, feeling far too reminded of Sally Avril. "It's Peter. Peter Parker. And you?"

"Karin Kanzuki," the girl replied simply. "Thank you for cooperating." With that, she turned on her heel and walked straight toward the table where Anya, Mattie, and Sakura were conversing.

"Oh, hey, Karin!" Sakura greeted eagerly, jumping out of her seat and practically attaching herself to Karin like an octopus. "You made it!"

"A tournament in America was too good an opportunity to miss," Karin replied with a faint hint of affection in her tone as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Especially when it's in a city that seems to be a haven for so many . . . unique characters."

"Tell me about it," Anya remarked.

Karin turned to Anya. "You. Name."

"Anya Corazon, what's it to you?" Anya retorted; if Karin was going to act like a snooty bitch, she could sling it back just as hard.

"Mattie Franklin!" Mattie introduced herself eagerly, only to be ignored by Karin.

"So you two are friends?" Anya asked, looking at Sakura and Karin. While they both wore the traditional sailor fuku, Sakura's was white with a blue skirt and a yellow tie while Karin's was a rich scarlet with a blue tie and black bike shorts sticking out from underneath. Plus, while Sakura's expression was open and eager, Karin's was deeply imperious. It made the spiky-ponytailed girl wonder how they could be friends, if that was what they were.

"Rivals would be more accurate," Karin replied. "We aim to be the youngest champions of the World Warrior Tournament."

"You're pretty friendly for rivals," Mattie observed.

"Karin's not such a bad girl once you get to know her," was Sakura's answer. "She's as sweet as pocky . . . but don't tell her I said that."

Anya and Mattie looked at Sakura oddly. "She happens to be right next to you," Anya deadpanned.

Sakura looked to see Karin, suddenly remembered that Karin was there, and blushed while chuckling embarrassedly. "Oh, yeah . . ."

Karin let out an undignified snort, but there was no real malice in it. "Do you want to meet a superhero?" Mattie asked. "Since you're here and all . . ."

"It would be interesting to fight one," Karin confessed. "Or one of those miscreants you call super-villains. I think they would be an even bigger challenge, although not insurmountable for one like me."

"You're that good?" Anya deadpanned, not sure if she should take the red-clad blonde at her word.

Karin's eyes narrowed briefly. "You have no idea . . ."

* * *

School let out some hours later, and as Peter was walking out of the halls of Midtown High, he heard the dreaded ring. Darting somewhere private that he wouldn't be so easily overheard, Peter withdrew the Com-Card from his pocket and rubbed the blue strip underneath. Nick Fury's image answered him, in the form of a 3D hologram "standing" on the card's surface.

"These are your coordinates, Spider-Man," the image stated before being replaced by what looked like a 3D holographic map of New York City with the quickest path to his ordered destination highlighted by a winding gold arrow. If it wasn't for his intimate knowledge of the city, he would have been lost, but as it was, he was just annoyed Fury didn't have the decency to wait for him to be _out_ of school before hitting him up.

Sighing to himself as the transmission ended, Peter found Gwen and pulled her close so he could whisper in her ear. "Hey, Gwen, I don't think I'm gonna be able to make it home for a while. Would it be ok if you and MJ came up with an excuse to tell Aunt May so she doesn't start worrying about me?"

"Sure, Pete," Gwen whispered back. "Let me guess, Fury called you in."

"Yeah," Peter admitted. "Sorry."

"Go do what you do," Gwen encouraged him. "Mary Jane and I will pick up the slack." She kissed him on the cheek and slipped out of his grip, leaving him to dart somewhere private and quickly change into his new black costume.

* * *

He had to admit, as he web-swung through the city on his way to the location Fury had pointed out for him, that the new costume felt quite nice. As far as he could ascertain, it had been designed as a form of extremely lightweight body armor, flexible enough to not hinder the wearer's movements, light enough not to significantly reduce speed and agility, and tough enough to withstand medium-caliber gunfire. He was going to have to see what he could do about keeping this suit or figuring out a way to incorporate its composition into his regular costume.

"You made it," a voice remarked no sooner than Spider-Man had stuck his traditional three-point landing on the rooftop of their meeting place. Without missing a beat, Spider-Man turned to see Daredevil, wearing his own black costume with his symbol, two interlocked D's, etched in blood red and "razor armor" covering his arms and outer legs. Black Widow and Winter Soldier were there as well, in their own customary dark uniforms, and Hawkeye was still dressed as Ronin.

The five of them weren't alone, though; Guile, Chun-Li, and Cammy were there, too, in their own outfits. Guile was still wearing his usual combat fatigues, but Chun-Li was wearing a purplish-black qipao with ornate red accents traced into the fabric and stockings so sheer and yet so dark they might as well have been opaque. Cammy was still in what Spider-Man had dubbed the "TRON Suit"; other than the blonde hair tied in two thin, almost obscenely long braids and the suit being a leotard, she could have passed for a certain character introduced in the sequel.

"Well, hey there, everyone," Spider-Man greeted awkwardly. "Been waiting long?"

"Not really," Winter Soldier replied languidly.

"Did 'graduate school' keep you long?" Cammy inquired snidely.

"Yeah, it's hard work, especially when you're juggling it with saving the world," Spider-Man replied, determined not to let on how nervous he was at being the youngest person there.

"I'll bet," Cammy responded somewhat sardonically.

"Enough," Guile said, his voice bringing everyone to attention. "Fury's given us our marching orders. Our job is to infiltrate the World Warrior Tournament, pummel our way through as many thugs as we can get at until we find the ones in Bison's or Kingpin's employ, and then we squeeze the sons of bitches for whatever intel we can get out of them about what the big bastards are planning, and once that's over with, we make sure they don't succeed."

"Sounds very, very simple," Spider-Man remarked. "Simple enough for me, that is. I'm in. Except there's one thing I'm worried about . . ."

"What's that, kid?" Guile asked.

"Tombstone," Spider-Man replied. "The current Big Man of Crime in this city. Kingpin's likely jockeying for his old position, and Tombstone won't take that lying down. He'll probably have his own guys in there, too, and they'll be mixing it up with Bison's and Kingpin's guys."

"Good point," Cammy admitted. "Not to mention S.I.N."

"What kind of hokey super-villain organization name is that?" Spider-Man scoffed.

"They're a lot more serious than they sound," Cammy replied. "Last I recall, a woman named Juri Han, codenamed 'Spider,' became their leader after pulling a fatal double-cross on the previous leader Seth. She's as dangerous as they come. . . ." Cammy bit her lip on the last word, remembering just how the sadistic fighter took to combat.

"Spider, huh?" Spider-Man repeated. "Now I'm _really_ gonna beat her down."

"Why?" Chun-Li asked.

"Trademark violation," Spider-Man answered with mock seriousness. "_I'm_ the only spider around these parts."

"Not if Web Corps is anything to go by," Guile remarked snidely. "Saw the news this morning; those kids are looking to take your spot."

Spider-Man snorted. "I'm the original. They're copycats. Original wins every time. Fact of life."

"What would that mean for me?" the Black Widow asked with a slight smirk.

Spider-Man turned to the redheaded S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, only to find himself flustered in the face of her taunting smirk. "Yeah, uh . . . I'll let you know when I've figured it out. Now can we get down there and do business? I'm getting antsy."

Black Widow spared a brief amused chuckle, while Spider-Man bit back an irritated growl and fired his web-line, anchoring it to prepare to swing off on it. "Kid's right," Ronin admitted. "We've got work to do. Let's do it."

* * *

The World Warrior Tournament was in full swing, with much of the metropolitan areas having been cordoned off by the NYPD to prevent unnecessary civilian casualties. Next to one of the cordons, a young detective by the name of Yuri Watanabe sipped black coffee in front of her car. "This is crazy. People coming in from all over the world just to beat the crap out of each other," she remarked to her partner.

"Just how the worm turns, I suppose," Stan Carter remarked almost philosophically as he lingered by her. "Violence junkies need their fix just like any other junkies. The best we can do is keep them from getting innocent people caught up in it."

"So is that why you let Spider-Man do what he does?" Yuri asked.

"Yeah," Stan admitted grimly. "He might not be doing it right, but so far he's the one thing standing between this city and a bloodbath."

"What do you mean, 'not doing it right'?" Yuri wondered curiously.

Stan's expression darkened. "That blowhard Jameson calls him an outlaw. If he were a _real_ outlaw, those psychos he's up against would have been S.O.L. a long time ago. One good thing Brock did when he was trying to ruin Spider-Man's rep."

Yuri gripped her cup tightly. "You seriously mean that?" she asked in a tight voice.

"It's frustrating," Stan confessed. "Most of the time, we can't do anything to stop these guys ourselves, so we need Spider-Man to do it for us, and he won't even make sure they're off our hands for good."

"Maybe he's not the kind of guy who takes his inspiration from _Death Wish,_" Yuri remarked.

"Death wish," Stan repeated with a bitter chuckle. "Sometimes, I'm sure at least some of these guys have one. Would love to give them what they want, if that's the case."

"What about the Web Corps?" Yuri asked, trying to change the topic before she heard any more of her partner's disturbing views on crime and punishment.

"Dunno where they came from," Stan replied. "Don't care that much, either, for that matter. It's just . . . this used to be our city. We used to be the law here . . . and now you've got maniacs and freaks crawling out from the woodwork making life hell for ordinary people and guys like us are helpless to do what we're supposed to do."

"So we do what we can," Yuri answered. "And if people like Spider-Man want to do the right thing and help where they can, I suppose we can let them . . . so long as they don't cross that line."

"What line would that be?" Stan inquired darkly.

"You know what that line is," Yuri rejoined determinedly.

"Then what good are they?" Stan asked bitterly. "What, do they want this madness to keep going forever and ever? For what? Their own egos? To feel like they're needed? That they're special? For that?"

Yuri sipped her coffee again. "Start using decaf, Stan. It'll help. So would talking to somebody."

"No freaking shrinks," Stan snarled. "They don't understand a thing about this."

"Who said anything about shrinks?" Yuri asked amiably. "What about Jean? She's rather fond of you, I think."

Stan contemplated that for a moment. "So long as it's not a shrink," he grunted resignedly.

* * *

Inside what had been informally dubbed "the Warzone," the traveling warrior known only as Ryu was in heated combat with the green-clad martial master known as the Iron Fist. The dragon-tattooed man did not have Iron Fist simply as a superlative nickname; the Iron Fist was his very power . . . as Ryu had found out the hard way after barely dodging a punch that _shattered_ the concrete it impacted.

"You are an interesting opponent, Iron Fist," Ryu remarked.

"And it's an honor to fight someone as renowned as you," Iron Fist rejoined, catching Ryu just as Ryu attempted a powerful uppercut that would have shattered a normal man's jaw. "The Shoryuken, huh? Nice one. See mine." And Iron Fist delivered a brutal chi-enhanced cross to Ryu's jaw, knocking him some distance backward. However, Ryu was not down for the count by any means, as he proved with his . . .

"HADOKEN!"

A veritable tidal wave of blue chi roared out from Ryu's cupped and outstretched hands, and Iron Fist steeled himself to punch through it. Of course, the Hadoken was not deflected so easily, even by the power of the Iron Fist. The wave simply split and bent around him, still grazing him with surprising force for a diffused attack of that nature.

Iron Fist just smirked, despite his exhaustion from using his chi to shield himself from the worst of the Hadoken. "That was fun . . ."

* * *

If there had been anyone Spider-Man had been expecting to run into while in the Warzone, it was definitely _not_ a Korean woman with her hair tied into twin pointy buns and a crazed look in her eyes. Not helping much was that she wore a very tiny black top held on by eight spiderlike straps and white karate pants that were both backless and crotchless to expose very tight hot pink leggings underneath.

"You must be 'Spider,'" he greeted.

"Oh, you've heard of me?" Spider replied. "Little Killer Bee must have told you all about me . . . but did she tell you that she made me what I am today?"

"What are you talking about?" Spider-Man asked.

Spider, or Juri Han, almost sashayed toward Spider-Man, and her walk made the web-slinger notice the bareness of her feet. Looking up, he saw a very disturbing gleam in her eyes that reminded him of the way Morrigan and Lilith had looked at him when he'd known them . . . only hers was far scarier than when _they_ did it.

"Spider, Spider, Spider-Man . . ." Juri purred. "You won't need to worry about little old Killer Bee right now. What you should be worried about . . ." And his spider-sense went crazy, just in time for him to reflexively dodge a brutal whirling kick with purple energy following her leg. ". . . is what I'm going to do to you."

"So this is the chi stuff I've been hearing about lately," Spider-Man murmured.

"Come on, is that all you've got?" Juri taunted in what could have passed for a seductive voice. "Because I'm not going to be satisfied by a pathetic performance like that!"

"Crazy . . ." Spider-Man muttered. "This woman is freaking crazy!"

He fired his webs at her, but Juri merely sliced through them with another chi-charged spin kick. Deciding to get up close and personal, Spider-Man lunged for the madwoman, who twisted around while her upper body was kept low to the ground to kick him in his stomach, almost propping him up with her raised foot.

_That is one flexible woman . . ._ he found himself thinking. _But thank God that was my stomach and not my back . . . although my kidneys are gonna be feeling that for a month . . ._

* * *

On a different rooftop, in a different part of the city, Anya and Mattie perched restively, Mattie more so than Anya. "What do you think is up with Ben and Brian?" Mattie wondered.

"You mean Scarlet Spider and Spider-X," Anya answered. "And how the hell would I know? Brian's too busy playing Punisher and Ben . . . who knows what he's up to?"

"Harry seems so glum lately," Mattie remarked. "And he won't talk to anybody about it."

"It's Tarantula, and his best friends are going out with each other," Anya replied nonchalantly. "He's bound to feel like a third wheel with those lovebirds, assuming he wasn't in love with one of them in the first place."

"Which one?" Mattie wondered aloud.

"Which one do you think?" Anya asked snippily. "And don't get ideas."

Mattie blushed underneath her almost-featureless silver-blue mask. "I wasn't thinking anything like that!"

"Sure you weren't," Anya replied. "Just who did I catch reading RPF of Spider-Man and Venom last night, if it wasn't you?"

"Oh, that was you?" Mattie uttered embarrassedly.

"Yeah," Anya confessed. "But you ever think it's kinda funny – and by funny I mean weird – for people to be writing RPF of superheroes and super-villains when they don't even know who most of these guys are behind their masks?"

"I just hope they don't start writing RPF of me and you," Mattie blurted out.

Anya blushed beneath her mask. "Where did _that_ idea come from?"

"Nowhere . . ." Mattie replied.

Anya found it in herself to laugh out loud. "Yeah, they're probably likelier to write RPF of you and Spidey . . . and if they don't, _you_ will!"

"I'm not that obsessed!" Mattie protested heatedly.

"I saw your shrine, remember?" Anya jibed. "And you wouldn't be the first one. How many people have written about Spider-Man swooping in like a knight in shining armor – or spinning shining spider webs – to save and romance the damsel in distress?" She let out a brief snort that turned into a teasing chortle.

"Anya!" Mattie squealed irately.

"It's Arana to you while we're out here, Spider-Woman," Anya gently chided.

At that moment, an alarm went off in their aural com-links, prompting a dangerous smile from Arana. "Break-in at Central . . . sounds like a couple of troublemaking bitches." Her smile grew wider and toothier. "It looks like we're getting some action tonight, babe!"

Spider-Woman eagerly sprouted her psychic spider legs from her back. "Then what are we waiting for?" She jumped off the rooftop, using the four spider legs extending from her back to grip the façade of the skyscraper she'd just been perched on. "You coming, Arana?"

"Oh, yeah," Arana replied as she fired her retractable spider-cord from one wrist. The spider-shaped weight on its end attached to a skyscraper façade just opposite of Spider-Woman's, and Arana did a brief tug to make sure of the grip's firmness. "Let's go!"

* * *

Speaking of the Spider-Men, the Scarlet Spider had come face to face with yet another uniquely dressed woman – and to his not-great surprise, she was with the bad guys. Said woman wore a black full-body suit made out of something that looked like PVC with honeybee-yellow accents on her shoulders, arms, legs, and torso . . . the torso highlights drawing attention to a _very_ well-developed bust. Adding to her costume was a pair of high-tech aviator goggles that covered her eyes but exposed chin-length blonde hair and pink lips that seemed perpetually set in an impish grin. Topping off the outfit was a pair of energized batons, glowing pink, extended from her golden-yellow gauntlets.

The Scarlet Spider had been canvassing the city's underworld locales looking for clues as to where Razorfist had gotten his blade-fingered gauntlet weapons. Those clues had largely evaded him, although he did get the name of the woman who had accompanied Razorfist and served as his commander. "Silver Sable" was really Sable Manfredi, the daughter of notorious crime boss Silvio "Silvermane" Manfredi, who had been in the running for the position of the Big Man of Crime before going to prison. It seemed that Sable, whose white hair had earned her the moniker of "Silver Sable," was carrying on his work, at least until Silvermane was a free man again. From what he'd learned, that wouldn't be so long in coming thanks to the deal he'd cut with the Feds – not that it would stop him from resuming his old habits, which made Scarlet wonder what the point was in making those deals to begin with.

Just as the red-clad web-slinger was about to pursue further clues, he'd noticed the bumblebee, so dubbed for her color scheme, making quite the acrobatic getaway from a jewelry store. Quickly changing his trajectory, the Scarlet Spider had immediately swung around to pursue the presumed thief, following her with equal if not greater agility. She'd accelerated, not out of sheer terror of being caught but what seemed to be excitement, which forced Scarlet to up his own speed to catch up with her.

Overshooting her with a single leap, the Scarlet Spider landed in front of the bumblebee thief, which was when he got a good look at her. "Ooh, you caught me, Spider-Man . . ." the costumed woman cooed. "What are you going to do with me now?"

"First off, it's Scarlet Spider. Second, we're going to go back where you just came from and return whatever it is you stole, and if you're lucky, I might be able to persuade them not to do something crazy like insist you go to jail. Third, anyone ever mention that your outfit makes you look like a bumblebee?"

"Joystick," the woman corrected. "It's Joystick."

"Joystick?" Scarlet Spider echoed perplexedly. "What is this to you, some kind of videogame?"

"Well, I was pretty good at GTA and Saint's Row . . ." Joystick replied. "But if you wanna go that badly . . ." She threw her arms out and a pair of pink energy batons extended from her gauntlets.

"No wonder you've got the name Joystick," Scarlet remarked. "But ok, if you wanna go that way . . ." He twisted his wrists and fired stinger darts at Joystick, who batted them down with one agile sweep of her arm-mounted baton. "Damn, this is going to be interesting, huh?"

"Bet your life on it, Reddy!" Joystick retorted as she lunged for the Scarlet Spider.

"It's _Scarlet. Scarlet_ Spider," the red-clad wall-crawler retorted as he fired a shot of impact webbing at Joystick. It caught her around the legs, exploding into an entangling mess of webbing that threw off her balance and trapped her legs in a cocoon. With Joystick secured, the Scarlet Spider walked up to her before crouching down to begin his search. "So where'd you put it? Please not some embarrassing place like in your cleavage. I'd prefer not to be accused of molesting my female opponents."

"Silly boy . . . who said anything about _you_ molesting _me?_" Joystick inquired sultrily.

"Don't try to distract me with the sexpot routine," Scarlet retorted as he continued to pat her down, searching for hidden catches she could have used to conceal her ill-gotten wares. "I've seen as well as read enough thrillers to know how that turns out for the idiot who falls for that crap. Now you just hold still and maybe this won't turn out so bad . . ."

His spider-sense interrupted the next thing he was going to say, as Joystick slashed him with her energy baton, Scarlet barely dodging in time to avoid an unsightly wound. His costume, of course, was not so lucky, now having an unsightly tear in its fabric with scorch marks on the edges. Having distracted him with her attack, Joystick turned her batons on the web-cocoon binding her legs, and Scarlet Spider had to admit that she was rather flexible, given how she was able to twist herself around to reach her legs.

"Nice," the Scarlet Spider remarked. "I bet if you put those things on the market, women wouldn't have to worry about waxing anymore."

"Glad you approve . . ." Joystick purred as she rose to her feet. "Now let's get down to business . . . and business, between you and me, is going to be _fun!_"

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Scarlet wondered, equally confused and excited as he set himself for round two.

* * *

Endnotes: And thus, we have reached the end of chapter 4 of the Street Samurai arc. I know there was more talking than fighting (oh, God, am I turning into Bendis?), but I thought it'd be good to sow the seeds of future plot entanglements and provide character interaction. For example, the "Kitty" mentioned by Scott is none other than Kitty Pryde of the X-Men, and she will be important later on, although there will be no shipping between her and Peter/Spider-Man, at least not on Peter's end.

For those of you unaware of obscure comics trivia, Joystick _is_ an actual Marvel character that debuted during Ben Reilly's tenure as Spider-Man. After Ben's unfortunate passing, she later resurfaced in the pre-Civil War Thunderbolts storylines, but hasn't been heard from since, much to my annoyance. Speaking of Ben, his subplot in this story is going to eventually dovetail with the story's A-plot, given the looming gang war that has caused Kingpin and Tombstone to team up with M. Bison and Juri Han.

Furthermore, Yuri Watanabe is a character in the more recent Spider-Man comics and carrying on the tradition of NYPD captains that do actually appreciate Spider-Man's efforts. In the context of this story, as _Spectacular_ deals with a much younger Spider-Man, she's for the time being just a detective on the force, and that's not getting into the complications presented by the most recent comic storyline. It could, however, factor into a later story still using the _Spectacular_ backdrop or a similar alternative Spider-Man canon.

For those of you wanting to see more of Ryu vs. Iron Fist or Juri vs. Spider-Man, never fear; those two fights will be expanded in the next chapter, which will hopefully not take as long for me to get to as this one did. Just wanted to give you guys something to look forward to instead of giving the whole store away in one go. To JurgenZero2034 (I hope I got that right), Guile vs. Bullseye is on the horizon . . . but will a Sonic Boom deflect Bullseye's wicked aim? You'll get that answer when it's time or maybe a little sooner if you review! Until next time, true believers!


End file.
